


if i look in your eyes, i'll want you to hold me

by mothmanwashere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Background Shiro/Adam, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Casual Sex, Dirty Talk, Drinking, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Getting Together, Gratuitous McElroy references, Happy Ending, Keith can't process a Human Emotion to save his life, Lack of Communication, Lingerie, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Pining Keith (Voltron), Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Sexting, Sloppy Makeouts, gays who like football, i guess, they're soft and i'm weak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-06-18 12:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 71,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15485631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothmanwashere/pseuds/mothmanwashere
Summary: Keith doesn't have many friends, which is why he can't be blamed for seizing the first opportunity to pitch headlong into what will surely be a very terrible decision.  It's not Keith's fault that Lance is so pretty and so good at-- well, human contact.Feelings are an unpleasant side effect of an otherwise agreeable arrangement.Fic title from “Feelings” by Hayley Kiyoko





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with another fic bearing a title that's way too long to reference in shorthand
> 
> hopefully it won't take as long to finish as the last one

The air held a vague sense of impending rain as Keith adjusted the strap of his backpack and took a glance at the sky.  He figured whatever weather was going to rear its ugly head would still be a few hours in coming, and he wasn’t about to make himself late to class by going back for his sweatshirt.  He’d try to stop back by the apartment in the break he had between class and his shift at the library – if he didn’t, he knew Shiro would be on his ass about skipping meals again.  While Keith could acknowledge he didn’t have the healthiest habits, he didn’t think it was as bad as his friend made it out to be.  Shiro was just such a mom sometimes.

Keith’s route across campus was familiar by now – almost two weeks into fall semester.  The university he currently attended was one he’d transferred to last year, after accumulating credits at a junior college closer to his hometown.  The only friend he’d made in his whole year at Altea State University was Shiro, who maybe didn’t count because Keith had actually known him since he was a kid.  It was a little pathetic, maybe, but since he had no friends, the upside was that he didn’t care if anyone else thought he was a loser for only having one friend.  Keith kept his pace quick and steady, weaving past slower groups of students ahead of him on his way to the Humanities building.

His first class of the day was his sociology class.  While he preferred to stick to lit classes, he found it a pretty agreeable elective so far.  It helped that it was a topic Keith was familiar with.

The second floor of the Humanities building was quiet as Keith wound his way through the halls toward his classroom – the English classes not starting for at least another hour, and the few elective classes that occupied the space at this hour only just wrapping up their sessions.  It was familiar in a comforting way, as the bulk of Keith’s English classes took place in the same handful of classrooms on this floor and the one below it.  Like a second home, maybe.  Or maybe just a place Keith spent time in every day without really choosing to as he waited for the class before his to let out.  He pulled his textbook out of his backpack and opened it up to the chapter he’d read the night before in preparation for class.

“Holy crow, Pidge!”

Keith’s gaze flicked up as the door to the stairwell nearby burst open -- a loud, Latino student from Keith’s class barreling through them.  The loud guy dropped his backpack to the floor beside a petite student Keith also recognized from class.  He couldn’t quite place their name, but Keith remembered the first day of class when they’d stood up on a desk and asked that everyone respect their they/them pronouns and had silently admired them since then.  “Please tell me you read the chapter, because I need a crash course.”

The kid who Keith assumed must be “Pidge” rolled their eyes.  “You should have read it yourself.”

“I tried!”

“There’s only so far you can get in college without doing the reading, Lance.”

“It’s not like I _never_ do the reading!” Lance argued.  “It just makes so much more sense when you explain it.  Plus I was running late this morning and I didn’t have time.”

“Fine,” Pidge huffed.  “Sit down and shut up.”

Keith shifted from his spot leaning against the wall and checked the time on his phone.  The professor currently using the classroom Keith was waiting to go into was running long.  He just wanted to go in already.  He half listened as that Pidge kid gave Loud Lance a rundown of the assigned chapter, filtering through their words for any interesting insights.  They seemed to be keeping it pretty basic, which Keith couldn’t fault them for.  If they were friends with this Lance guy, they probably had to temper their patience.  God knew Keith could barely do that, and the closest he’d come to interacting with the guy was sitting in the row in front of him and passing back the attendance sheet every day.  Keith didn't... do well with such energetic people.  He never knew how to interact with them, so he preferred not to unless pressed to do so.  This Lance kid was the human embodiment of Keith's kryptonite.

Students began to finally file out of the classroom, and Keith let the flood die down before he skirted his way into the classroom and settled into his usual seat.  The rest of the class filled in around him as he continued to skim through the chapter they were studying.  The professor arrived a few minutes later – one of Keith’s favorites that he’d had here at ASU.  Professor Wimbleton-Smythe was an absent-minded Kiwi who had been teaching at this university since before Keith was in diapers, but, like his accent, his enthusiasm for the subject matter hadn’t faded one bit.  Passionate professors taught the material better than reserved ones, Keith thought.  It was easier to see the interests within when you were being taught the subject by someone who obviously loved it.

The professor turned toward the blackboard, making three large columns on the board with his favorite purple chalk.  From behind him, Keith heard Lance’s voice behind him comment quietly, “If he doesn’t wind up with purple chalk dust on the seat of his pants by the end of class, I’ll eat my homework.”

“You shouldn’t eat your homework,” Pidge snarked in return.  “But it’ll be his mustache."

“You’re on,” Lance said, a bit louder, and there was the slap of skin as the two shook on it.  “And when I’m right, I’ll eat _your_ homework.”

“Do you need fiber in your diet that badly, Lance?”

“I meant you’ll eat my homework!”

“So you’re just not coming to class with homework, then?  Coran’s gonna fail you.”

“He’ll never mark me down if I tell him my honor was at stake!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Lance!” Professor Wimbleton-Smythe called out jovially.  He stalked forward and made unblinking eye contact with Lance as he sat the attendance sheet down in front of Keith (who was the only person who sat in the front row.) “One’s honor is certainly a high merit, but I can’t grade your work if it’s been through your digestive tract!”

“Aw shit.”

Keith snorted and scribbled his name down on the attendance sheet.  He handed it over his shoulder to Lance and felt a soft hand brush his as the other man took it.  Keith brought his hand back down to the desk and picked up his pen, idly scribbling the date across the top of his notes.

“Everyone pair up! We’re going to write down three things that stood out about the chapter and share with the class!”

Keith sighed, reluctantly glancing up as the rest of the classroom turned toward the person immediately beside them.  He caught the eye of the professor, who smiled sympathetically.  He lowered his voice to speak directly to Keith.  “Normally, I’d be happy to let you work on your own, Keith, but I’m afraid I don’t think talking to yourself about the chapter is very conducive to thoughtful discussion.”

“He can work with us.”

Keith turned, facing Lance and Pidge who were staring at him with smiles on their faces.  The professor beamed and patted Keith’s shoulder.  “Wonderful!” he exclaimed.  “The three of you should do swimmingly together!  Don’t eat Keith’s homework, Lance!”

Lance let out an offended noise, throwing his hands up in the air as Pidge snickered and Keith tried not to crack his stoic expression with a smirk.  “Whatever,” Lance groused, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

“I’m Pidge,” said the petite brunet by way of greeting.  “That’s Lance, and he’s a dumbass.  Sorry if this sounds weird, but like… are you _Shiro_ ’s Keith?”

Lance made a strange noise, but when Keith glanced his way, his gaze was fixed solidly on the blackboard.

“Uh… Yes? How do you—”

“Shiro’s my brother’s best friend,” Pidge said.  “He talks about you a lot.”

Keith nodded again, unsure how to really respond to the conversation.

“So, Keith, come here often?” Lance asked casually.

“Every Tuesday?”

Before Lance could open his mouth to respond to Keith missing his joke, Pidge rolled their eyes.  “Let’s just discuss the chapter and get it over with,” Pidge said, and Keith leaned forward, readily in agreement.  “Did you have any thoughts, Keith?”

“Why didn’t you ask if _I_ had any thoughts?” Lance objected.

“Because I know Keith read the chapter and you didn’t,” Pidge replied flatly.

“You don’t know him!”

“Just read the damn chapter, Lance,” Pidge said, handing him their textbook before glancing back toward Keith.  “Keith and I will do the dirty work.”

Keith blinked, unsettled by the mild bickering right in front of his eyes.  “I thought it was interesting,” he replied, trying to gather a coherent thought.  “Textbooks are kind of flat in comparison to the fluidity of the spectrum, but it was a decent overview of how gender overlaps and helps define sexuality.”

“I’m always mad turned off when definitions try to shoehorn the different definitions to fit a binary,” Pidge said, their face becoming more expressive as they realized how receptive Keith was being to the subject.  “Like, I’m not a guy or a girl, so the fact that the book acknowledged there are people who don’t fit into an ‘either/or’ scenario was cool to me.  Like, it was the bare minimum, but when you’re used to nothing at all, it’s easy to get excited over little things.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Keith agreed.  He felt his posture loosening up gradually as Pidge spoke.  He hated group work because he was usually the one doing all the work with a bunch of inattentive kids, but this Pidge kid really knew their stuff.  Which made sense as Keith connected the dots that they were a Holt. “It’s kindergarten for anyone who’s done their research on the LGBT spectrum, but it’s still nice to see something you can relate to in a textbook.”

Pidge’s brows flicked up for a second before they cast a wide grin at Keith.  “Exactly.  It’s why representation matters.”

“Queer theory is one of the focuses of my English degree,” Keith offered, feeling willing to open up to Pidge about it as they seemed to be cool and on the spectrum themselves.  “I’d love to write my master’s thesis on it, honestly.”

“Don’t stop there,” Pidge said enthusiastically.  “Get your doctorate in Gay.”

Keith laughed, but it quickly died into a cough as he noticed Lance eyeing him strangely.  Oh fuck, if this dude was about to be weird about Keith being gay, they were going to have an issue.  It didn’t quite make sense that he’d have a problem with the LGBT community if he was friends with Pidge, but homophobes were wild.  Pidge didn’t seem to notice. 

“Gender studies is my minor, but I _wish_ they offered a major.  Guess I’ll stick to saving the environment full time and being a raging feminist on the weekends.  Here, write your number down,” Pidge said quickly, turning their notebook around for Keith to write in.  “We can trade notes in the future.  If that’s cool with you.”

“Sure,” Keith said easily, scribbling down his phone number in their notebook.

“Plus you’re friends with Shiro and Matt, so it’s about damn time we knew each other, too,” Pidge added with a laugh.  “I’ve only been hearing Shiro talk about you for years.”

“He’s mentioned you too now that you say it,” Keith said, mostly because it felt like the polite thing to say.  He had a vague knowledge that Matt had a younger sibling, but didn’t know much more than that.

“Hey, they talk about bisexuality in here!” Lance exclaimed, causing heads to turn around the room.

“That’s a wonderful observation, Lance!” Professor Wimbleton-Smyth responded exuberantly.  “But perhaps read the chapter ahead next time, instead of discovering such delights during the class period?”

Lance sunk down in his chair, muttering another “aw shit” under his breath as he buried his face in Pidge’s textbook.

“Dumbass,” Pidge muttered, but there was an undertone of affection that was unmistakable.  “It’s a chapter on sexuality, of _course_ they cover bi in there.  It’s the second letter in the acronym.”

“Hey, you got excited about the genderqueer shit, don’t judge me for getting to see my own identity represented,” Lance snapped, sticking his tongue out.

Pidge turned their attention to finding something decent they could share with the class, so Keith followed suit.  It wasn’t a difficult task, as they had both obviously absorbed the chapter well and added to their understanding with personal experience.  Coran lauded them for their takes on the matter, and Keith and Pidge shared a few longsuffering looks as they listened to some of the less-prepared (to put it kindly) members of their class share “insights”.

Class was over before they knew it, the hour flying past quickly.  Keith shoved his notebook into his bag and waved goodbye to Pidge (Lance seemed to be ignoring his existence for whatever reason, but Keith didn’t really care because he’d finally shut up).  His next class passed in a blur, his empty stomach distracting him from fully dedicating his attention to the lecture, and once he was done with class, he made his way back across campus to his apartment. 

“Hey Keith,” his roommate said, smiling in greeting as Keith came through the front door.

“Hi Shiro,” Keith responded, heading for his room to deposit his bag.  “How was class?”

“Good,” Shiro hummed from the kitchen, his voice carrying through the small apartment with ease.  “How about you?”

“Fine,” Keith said.  “I met Pidge.”

“Oh really?” Shiro said, sounding surprised and pleased.  “I was wondering when you two would finally cross paths.”

“They’re in my sociology class,” Keith offered, returning to the kitchen sans bookbag.  “Human Gender and Sexuality.”

“Ahh, sounds like Pidge’s cup of tea,” Shiro said.  “You want a sandwich?”

“Sure,” Keith agreed, since Shiro already had everything spread out on the counter.  Keith reached into the fridge to pull out a can of soda as Shiro busied himself making a second sandwich.  “You work tonight?”

“Until eight.”

“Lucky.”

“You?”

“Midnight. I’ve got tutoring from five to seven, though.”

“You spend so much time in that damn library,” Shiro joked, turning around to hand Keith his sandwich.  “You need to get out, make some friends, get laid.”

Keith made an unimpressed noise.  “In that order?”

“There’s a Greek Life party on Friday,” Shiro said.

“Gross.”

“It could be fun.”

“Frat boys, Shiro?”

“I was a frat boy.”

“Yeah but you’re like…” Keith waved a hand.  “Responsible and shit.”

Shiro rolled his eyes.  “Fraternities are more than just assholes throwing keggers.”

“Are they though?”

“They are,” Shiro said firmly.  “That’s just the reputation they get.”

“I thought you weren’t a partier anymore, Mr. Doctor.”

“I’m not a doctor yet.”

“That’s why I said Mr. Doctor and not Dr. Doctor.”

“You should come with me is all I’m saying, Keith.”

“I’ll think about it,” Keith said, taking his plate and retreating to his room to finish eating.

He pondered which homework assignments needed prioritizing before stuffing the needed papers and his laptop into his bag and heading for work.  At the last moment, he remembered his sweatshirt, tying it around his waist so he didn’t have to take off his backpack again.  He headed back the same way he’d just come, destined this time for the library nestled in the center of campus.  It was times like these Keith appreciated the coziness of ASU – it was nice not to have to walk for ages just to get anywhere.

Both of Keith’s part time jobs were at the library, which suited Keith just fine.  He’d practically grown up in libraries, so the quiet was familiar to him.  One was as a student librarian – the usual stacking and sorting and checking books out for beleaguered students – and the other was as an English tutor in the Language Tutoring Center on the second floor of the library.  Keith’s shifts (at either job) typically left him plenty of time to work on his own homework when he’d finished the necessary tasks.

Keith nodded politely to the other English tutor, who was packing up her bag to head out.  Keith really needed to find out what her name was before it came up and he looked like an ass.  “Busy today?”

The other tutor (Florence? Fiona?) shook her head.  “No appointments, no walk ins.  I only saw a few people come in for the Spanish tutors, but other than that it’s been dead.”

“Oh, are they open finally?”

The other tutor (Frankie??) nodded, slinging her bag over her shoulder.  “Yeah.  It’s the same guys from last year; you should go say hi.  Have a good night, Keith.”

“Night,” Keith called, cursing himself that he still hadn’t figured out her name.  He’d have to see if he could peek at Allura’s master copy of the schedule and see if he could figure it out.

“Bye Florona!”

 _Florona!_ Keith’s gaze snapped up to see the other tutor waving toward the room next door, where the Spanish tutors worked.  He couldn’t see into the Spanish room from this angle, but if they were to come out of their corner, Keith would see everything through the glass window.

“Bye boys! Be nice to Keith tonight, okay?” Florona cast a glance back toward Keith with a teasing smile.  “He’s skittish.”

Keith rolled his eyes, summoning a begrudging smile for his coworker as she finally departed.  He was just settling into his spot, prepared to be bored for the next few hours, when he saw the tops of two heads peeking just over the ledge through the glass window – apparently trying to sneakily catch a glimpse of who had taken over the English room when Florona finished her shift.

“Keith!” The one on the left stood up, and Keith recognized him immediately.  He was a large and jovial young man named Hunk – engineering major, Keith was pretty sure, but with a Spanish minor.  He’d been assigned to similar shifts as Keith last year, so they’d talked on occasion.  The other set of eyes, still barely visible through the glass went wide, and Keith recognized them too.  He elected to ignore the other peeping Spanish tutor in favor of turning his attention on Hunk.

“Hey Big Man,” Keith said, waving a little as Hunk rounded the corner to approach the doorway of the English room.  “How’s your semester going?”

“Great!” Hunk exclaimed, dropping onto the sofa beneath the window, directly across from Keith.  “How about yours?”

“Not bad,” Keith hummed.  “I’ve already got a paper due next week.”

Hunk’s brows lifted in surprise.  “That’s killer, man.  But, I guess I have a lab report due, so maybe that’s not so surprising after all.”

Keith shrugged.  “It’s an easy one, so I’m not worried.  Are you on Tuesday nights this semester?”

Hunk shook his head.  “Two to five.  I’ll be heading out in a minute – I’ve got a class on the other end of campus.”

“Aw, when else do you work?”

“Wednesday ten to twelve, and Fridays twelve to two.”

“I’ll see you Fridays, then,” Keith said with a smile.  

“Awesome!”  Hunk glanced behind him, seemingly noticing for the first time that he and Keith were alone.  “Where—”

Keith nodded subtly to the glass, where Lance had finally stood up and was staring suspiciously through the glass at Keith.

“Lance! What are you doing?”

“What am _I_ doing?” Lance exclaimed, rounding the corner to the door.  “What are _you_ doing?”

“I’m talking to Keith! Have you met him?”

“We’ve met,” Keith said, keeping his tone even.  Lance threw his hands in the air like he didn’t appreciate Keith’s tone.

“Oh, great!” Hunk grinned, oblivious to the tension.  “Lance is the evening tutor this semester.”

Keith lifted a brow, unimpressed.  If Lance was the evening Spanish tutor, that meant he’d probably have to deal with listening to his shrill voice all semester, and Keith wasn’t sure if he could deal with that.  “Really.”

“I’m the most experienced Spanish tutor on campus!” Lance exclaimed, puffing his chest out proudly.

Hunk side-eyed his friend briefly, saying, “I mean, it was your first language, so technically—”

“It fucking _counts_ , Hunk!”

Keith blinked, expression unchanging.  “Well, congratulations.”

Lance looked like Keith’s refusal to immediately grovel at his feet was a disgrace.  Keith just wanted to know what crawled up this guy’s ass and died.  Lance turned on his heel and walked back around the corner to the Spanish room.  Hunk watched him go before turning back to Keith looking uncomfortable.  “Don’t mind Lance,” he said, his voice low.  “Sometimes he makes an ass of himself and doesn’t know how to fix it.  He’s pretty cool if you get to know him.”

Keith nodded tersely.  “I’m sure,” he said, not actually fully convinced but not wanting to argue the point with Hunk.  “It was good to see you though, man.”

Hunk took the out for what it was.  “Yeah, dude! I’ll see you around!”

As Hunk left (waving to Lance as he left the English room), Keith opened up his laptop.  He figured if he got a jump on this essay during his shift here, he could catch up on his reading for his Mythology class tonight after he’d shelved all the library returns.  He glanced up as someone entered the Language Lab and turned toward the Spanish room.  He heard Lance’s voice greet them loudly in Spanish and rolled his eyes, slouching a bit lower in his seat.  Yeah, this was going to be a long semester.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is surprised to find out that he and Lance have more history than he recalled.
> 
> Rewriting it seems more promising than recalling it.

“Party starts at eight,” Shiro said before leaving the apartment Friday morning.

Keith rolled his eyes, stuffing another spoonful of cereal into his mouth in direct contempt of Shiro’s expectation for a response.

“You should come,” Shiro said, _again_ , because Shiro was being weirdly persistent about this.  “Seriously Keith.”

“I’ll think about it,” Keith mumbled around a mouthful of half-chewed Froot Loops.

“I know you think you can get away without human interaction because you’ve met your ‘minimum quota’ with me,” Shiro said, “But that’s fake and you know it.”

“I don’t think meaningful human interaction happens at a frat party, dude.”

“Who said it had to be meaningful?” Shiro asked.  “Not everything has to have meaning.  Sometimes you just get tanked and make a fool of yourself in the company of a hundred other people who are just as drunk and making themselves just as big of fools.  If not bigger ones.”

“You’re really pushing this.”

“Pidge is going,” Shiro said.  “If nothing else, you could hang out with them and get to know them a little better.”

“I could do that _not_ at a party.”

“Keith, frat parties are a part of the quintessential college experience and I know for a fact that you didn’t go to one last year.  And your old school didn’t have a frat.”

“I’ve read _The Great Gatsby_ , I’ve experienced it all before.”

“Matt’s got the good kush,” Shiro offered, blatantly switching tactics.

Keith made a show of picking up his phone, screen still black from inactivity as he held it to his ear.  “Hello Mom? Yeah, I’m being peer pressured into drugs and alcohol, I need you to come pick me up.”

Shiro rolled his eyes.  “That’s the last time I waste a perfectly good vine reference on you.”

“It’s _Matt_ , how good could it be?”

“Better.”

“For real,” Keith said.  “I will think about it. I’m at the library until eight, so we’ll see.”

“Well, I know for a fact you don’t work at all this weekend, so take that into consideration, too.”

“Will do.  Leave already, aren’t you late?”

Shiro glanced at his watch.  “Not yet.”

“Then at least leave me alone and let me finish remembering how to be a functioning person.”

“Oh, Keith,” Shiro said, his voice suddenly pitched with artificial sympathy.  “Keith, honey, have you spent all this time thinking you’re a functioning person?”

Keith threw his spoon at Shiro’s head just as his roommate ducked into the hallway to avoid the projectile, laughing as it clattered against the floor several feet from its intended target.  “Fuck you, Shirogane.”

 

* * *

 

Fridays usually meant students were dying to get off campus and start enjoying their weekends, so the very thin student population was basically nonexistent by about two pm, and Keith was free to do as much homework as he pleased.  After his morning classes, Keith took up residence in the Language Lab, chatting amenably with Hunk, who stationed himself in good view of the window so he could see in case someone came looking for a Spanish tutor (they didn’t).  Hunk left at two, relieved by Lance, who didn’t look quite as pissed off by Keith’s very existence, but still didn’t look very friendly.  Keith kept to himself, helping a single student who strayed through into the English room looking for outlining tips, and locked up the English room at 4 to head to his library desk shift.

“Hey.”

Keith glanced up as he double-checked the lock.  Lance was shutting off the lights in the Spanish lab as well, pulling the door shut behind him.  “Hey.”

“Uh, I was wondering if you wanted to study together,” Lance said, not making eye contact with Keith.”

“Study together,” Keith repeated flatly.  The sentiment and Lance’s attitude toward him didn’t quite match up.

“Yeah, for sociology,” Lance said.  “We have that discussion packet due Monday.”

“If you need a peer review, English room hours are on the door,” Keith said bluntly, tapping the paper taped to the wood.

“I know when your hours are,” Lance snapped, blue eyes flashing as he finally looked up at Keith.  His jaw shifted and he took a deep breath, trying again.  “I’m asking if you – Keith, my classmate – would be interested in studying with me, Lance.  I don’t need a _tutor_.  I just think better when I can bounce ideas off of other people, and Pidge is busy this weekend.”

Keith studied Lance for a moment.  “Why?”

Lance’s face scrunched up in confusion.  “What?”

“Why me?  You’ve made it pretty damn clear you don’t like me,” Keith said.

Lance sputtered for a minute as the slot machine in his brain spun for a coherent response.  “You hated me first?”

“I didn’t even have time to formulate an opinion on you before you were acting like a complete jackass to me,” Keith said.  “Why would you think _I_ hated you first?”

Lance threw up his hands.  “You acted like you didn’t even know me in class!” Keith stared blankly at Lance until Lance tossed his hands in the air in exasperation.  “You’re doing it again!”

“Lance, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Keith said.

“Medieval Lit last year?”

Keith’s brain supplied a fuzzy memory of last fall semester, when Keith had been a complete anxious wreck about being in a new school.  Lance was at the edge of his periphery, he supposed, but not nearly direct enough for Keith to recognize him – much less form an opinion on him.  “We were in the same class?”

“And you _always_ had to one-up me!” Lance said.

Keith’s brow furrowed.  “How did I—”

“Any time I’d open my mouth in class, you were right there with a better, more articulate point!” Lance exclaimed.  “Dude, I read more for that class that I’ve read for any other class I’ve ever taken, and you were always right there to rub it in my face that you knew more than me!”

“That’s…” It was coming back to him now.  “I wasn’t trying to make you feel stupid _,_ Lance,” Keith said.  “I was just trying to further the discussion.  That’s what you _do_ in lit class.  Your points were easy to piggy-back off of because you had a really solid understanding of the material.”

“I—you—” Lance’s jaw opened and closed a few more times as he tried to process this new information, though the angry wind fueling him seemed to have left his sails.  “I thought…”

Keith’s brows knit together as he waited for Lance to finish his thought.  When it didn’t come, Keith shifted uncomfortably.  “I’m sorry if you thought I hated you, I guess.  I was really nervous last year about being in a new school, and I was more concerned with making the professors like me than the other students.  And I’m sorry I didn’t remember you.  I’m not very good with people, and like I said, I had kind of a one track mind last year in winning over the professors.”

Lance blinked a few times, like he’d been expecting a bigger fight.  After a moment, he shook his head, letting out an incredulous laugh.  “God, what the fuck?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve been stewing over our fucking rivalry for, like, a goddamn year, and I’ve been about to blow my top all week because you didn’t even think twice about it, and come to find out that I made the whole thing up in my head because you’re just really socially awkward with resting bitch face?  What kind of cosmic bullshit is happening to me right now?”

“It’s just my face,” Keith complained.

“So do you want to study together?” Lance asked again, looking more hopeful this time.  “Clean slate, I swear.”

Keith didn’t hesitate to nod.  “Sure.  I have to work the library desk until eight tonight, though.”

“Is it okay if I sit nearby?  Or would another time be better?”

Keith nodded again.  “Fridays are usually quiet.  We should have plenty of time to study.”

Lance smiled – a hesitant little thing worming its way across sharp, tan features – and Keith felt something click into place between the two of them.  He could not put a name to what the feeling was.  “Cool.  I’m gonna grab a bite and I’ll meet you upstairs?”

“Sounds good.”

“Do you want anything?”

Keith shook his head.  “I brought my lunch.”

“All right, man.  I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See you.”

 

* * *

 

Thirty minutes later, a bright pink smoothie was set on the desk beside Keith’s open laptop.  Keith glanced up from the screen to see Lance leaning casually against the counter.  “I hope you like strawberry.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Keith said, already reaching for the smoothie.  It was from the good coffee shop on campus and Keith loved their smoothies.

“Call it a peace offering,” Lance said.  “If we’re gonna be friends now, we gotta start out on the right foot.”

“So I went from your mortal enemy to your friend in the span of a couple days?”

Lance shrugged.  “Hey, if you turn out to be a jackass, we can definitely go back to being enemies.  And this time I’ll have a reason! Like, ‘I bought that douche a smoothie and then he was a dick to me’ so then I’ll rest easy knowing this time around my reasons for wanting to rub your nose in your own bullshit are completely justified.”

Keith lifted a dark eyebrow as he took a sip of the smoothie.  “You’re kinda weird, aren’t you?”

“Says the dude in the Mothman t-shirt?”

Keith shrugged.  “I like Mothman.”

“I don’t have a response to that statement, Keith.”

“Being that it was a statement, it doesn’t require a response.”

Lance squinted like he was trying to decide if Keith was intentionally being difficult or if it was another accidental tendency.  He must have declared the effort futile after a moment, because he shook his head.  “Anyway, we have homework.”

Keith nodded, tapping a few keys on his laptop and opening a new Word document.  “Do you just want to pull a chair up to the desk?  There are stools under the window that would work.”

Lance turned to borrow a barstool from the counter-height computer desk a few yards away and dragged it back to sit across from Keith.  Meanwhile, Keith had pulled out his sociology textbook and the chapter they’d been assigned.  It had been pretty low on his to-do list and had yet to be touched.  “Have you read the essay assignment yet?” Keith asked as Lance settled in.

Lance nodded as he pulled his own laptop out of his bag.  “I skimmed through it.”

“You’re a step ahead of me then,” Keith said, offering a hesitant smile to Lance.  While he’d been genuine in his assertion that he hadn’t intentionally meant to make Lance feel stupid, the sentiment had reverberated through his brain in the time since.  “So what’s the essay supposed to be about?”

“It’s a personal essay on sexuality,” Lance said, clicking on his wireless mouse.

Keith’s eyebrows flicked upward before settling back in their resting position on his face.  “I hope there are more specs than that, or I already pity Coran having to grade these.”

Lance snorted in amusement, his gaze fliting up to meet Keith’s briefly.  “Yeah, there are, I just didn’t memorize them.  Here,” Lance said, bending to fish the assignment sheet out of his backpack.  It was slightly crumpled – Lance’s organization system obviously leaving a bit to be desired – and Lance smoothed it out against the desk.  “Describe an experience you have had when your own sexuality (or someone’s close to you) came into question – or was reaffirmed.  No explicit detail.  Max two pages.”

“Not quite as bad, but still could get graphic,” Keith said.  “Kind of a tough prompt, though.”

“Really?”

Keith blinked.  “Why, do you have a topic in mind already?”

Lance nodded.  “I think so.”

“Well, good for you,” Keith said, and immediately winced at his tone.  “Like… genuinely? Good for you?  That came out wrong. I really did mean that sincerely.”

Lance rolled his eyes.  “You really _don’t_ have a lot of people skills, do you?”

“What, you thought I was lying?” Keith asked flatly.  “Let me tell you right now that when I say I have _one friend_ , I am not being hyperbolic.  Shiro has been putting up with my ass for far longer than anyone should have to and honestly deserves to be sainted. God knows I’ll never find anyone else willing to live with me.”

Lance chuckled.  “So how long have you two lived together?”

“Since May,” Keith said.  “I moved out of the dorms and in with him.”

“Cute,” Lance remarked, prompting a furrow in Keith’s brow.

“What do you mean?”

“I think that’s cute,” Lance repeated.  “Shiro’s literally the coolest dude I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, he’s okay I guess,” Keith agreed, settling back in his seat.

“So you really don’t have any ideas for paper topics? I could help you brainstorm,” Lance said.

“I’ll probably go the easy route and write about my coming out,” Keith said.  “Because then I can leave it for about seven pm the night before and be done with it in time to make fun of Shiro for watching the evening news.”

“Is that a good story or a not so good story?”

Keith shrugged.  “Like I said – one friend.  Shiro was out for a while before that, so I knew he wouldn’t care.  And I wouldn’t call coming out to my mom much of a story.”

Lance made a questioning noise, cocking his head to one side.

“I came out to her and she just, like, nodded and was really quiet, and then about two hours later she left a cake on my desk that had a rainbow frosted on it.”

“Oh my god, dude, that’s actually hilarious?” Lance said.  “So she was cool?”

“Yeah,” Keith said, smiling faintly.  “I think my social skills were hereditary.”

“I can only hope my parents will be that cool when I come out to them,” Lance said.

Keith twisted his mouth in a questioning expression.  “You’re bi, yeah?”

Lance nodded.

“So what’s your paper topic, then?”

“My bi-awakening,” Lance said wryly, amusement glinting in his eyes.

Keith snorted out a laugh.  “The first time you realized you wanted to suck a cock?”

“Oh it was worse than that,” Lance laughed.  “I won’t go into detail for Coran’s sake, but…”

“Jesus dude, you can’t just stop there,” Keith teased.

“Let’s just say I walked into a very public place and saw a very attractive man and the only thought running through my mind was how badly I wanted him to use my face like a chair.”

Keith’s laughter rippled out of his mouth even as he tried to stifle it behind his hand.  Lance was slightly red, but also laughing.  “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, I walked out to my car and texted Hunk, like, ‘uh I think I might be bi??’ and Hunk, being the very supportive best friend he is, was like ‘we been knew son’.”

“Sounds very encouraging,” Keith said, a smile still clinging to the corners of his mouth.

Lance shrugged.  “It was world-shaking at the time, and I couldn’t decide whether or not I was offended by him having read my attraction to dudes before I did, but looking back it’s just fucking funny as hell.”

“That’s a good thing,” Keith said, dipping his gaze back to his computer screen to type out a prompt sentence for his own essay.

“Yo, can I ask you a weird question?”

Keith glanced back up with a nod.

“Do you, like, think your gaydar improved after coming out?”

Keith’s face scrunched in confusion.  “My gaydar?”

“Yeah, like your ability to tell when someone else around you is gay or something.”

Keith shook his head.  “We’ve established I’m pretty shit at reading people, regardless of sexuality.”

“Huh, okay.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, Pidge and I were talking about it last week,” Lance said, and then chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck.  “Actually, we were arguing about whether you were gay or not.”

Keith quirked a brow, suddenly intrigued.  “Why?”

Lance shrugged a single shoulder.  “We were doing the whole class if that makes you feel any better,” Lance offered.  “Pidge said something along the lines of their gaydar being better because they’ve been out longer, and obviously I took that as a challenge. Everyone in our class reads pretty straight, except that girl who sits in the back who I’m pretty sure is a lesbian.  Pidge said you were definitely at least bi, but I said you were probably straight.”

Keith’s nose wrinkled at the idea.  “You sure do have a lot of ideas about me.”

“Well, gays usually have better fashion sense,” Lance said, attempting to tease and hoping he was hitting the mark.  Keith chuckled and some of the tension dropped out of Lance’s shoulders.  “Seriously.  I’m gonna nominate you for a Queer Eye makeover.  I’m sure JVN would agree with me that the mullet needs to go.”

Keith’s hand came up to touch the back of his head.  “It’s not a mullet.”

“You’re like Camp Rock era Joe Jonas,” Lance volleyed.  “Or Michael Moscovitz in Princess Diaries.”

Keith’s brows knit together.  “What are you saying to me?”

“I’m saying you have a 2000’s era teen-movie-bad-boy-love-interest mullet, and you need to wake up and realize you’re at least a decade behind the hair game.”

“That was so many words.”

“I’m a youngest child,” Lance replied.  “I have to hit a minimum word quota per day, or else I die from lack of attention.”

A burst of laughter shook Keith’s shoulders, almost surprising Lance with its intensity.  It drew a smile to his lips, because when Keith was laughing he looked like an entirely different person than the sour, holier-than-thou classmate Lance had spent the last year trying to hate.  There was an idea knocking at the back of his brain saying that the so-called ‘rivalry’ had been an ill-disguised crush all along, and Lance swallowed the thought, pushing it deep into the recesses of his brain in the hopes that he would forget about it entirely.  Instead, he cracked open his textbook and quickly changed the subject.  “Pidge’ll kill me if I don’t do the reading this time, though,” Lance said.

“That seems extreme.”

“Well, not actually,” Lance said.  “They get that my ADHD makes it hard for me to focus on the reading, so they try to catch me up when I don’t manage it on my own.  But they can definitely tell which times I actually tried to do the reading and couldn’t and the times when I just… didn’t do it.  I think they have a sixth sense for bullshit.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Keith laughed.

“But you can attest this time,” Lance said, flicking through textbook pages.  “This is me trying.”

“I’d testify on your behalf,” Keith agreed easily, pulling his own textbook closer.  “Okay so the packet is on chapter five, right?”

Lance nodded.  He was suddenly regretting having asked Keith to study with him.  Talking to him was nice, actually, but that old feeling of inadequacy he associated with Keith was starting to bubble to the surface the moment Lance turned his attention to the textbook.  “Yeah, uh, theoretical sexuality.”

Keith snorted.  “Title of my autobiography.”

Lance’s eyebrows flicked upwards in surprise, lips curling in amusement.  “What do you mean?”

“What does it sound like I mean?”

“Sounds like you aren’t getting any and you’re mad about it,” Lance laughed.

Keith tapped his index finger to the tip of his nose.

Lance’s expression scrunched into a confused frown.  “But aren’t you…”

“Aren’t I what?”

“…Never mind, it’s not my business,” Lance said, curling deeper around his textbook.

“What’s not?”

“The thing that we’re not talking about because it’s not my business,” Lance said.  “You going to the Theta Phi Kappa party tonight?”

“Is that the big frat party happening tonight?”

Lance laughed.  “Yeah.”

Keith shrugged. “Haven’t decided.  Shiro’s been on my case all week to go with him.”

“You should,” Lance encouraged.  “It’s supposed to be fun.  I think Pidge and Hunk are both coming, too, so you’d, like, know people!”

“Yeah? You going?”

Lance nodded.  “I’ve got some friends in the house, so I usually make an appearance.”

“Cool,” Keith said, tucking his hair behind his ear.  “Let’s see if we can get through this packet together, yeah?”

Lance leaned forward, his elbows planted on the counter.  “Hell yeah.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of frat parties and split-second decisions.

Keith was standing outside of the biggest frat house on the ASU campus and for the life of him could not recall what had possessed him to _actually_ come to this party.  Some unhelpful part of his brain supplied a memory of Lance half-leaning across the library counter, telling him he should come because he’d know people there and it frustrated Keith to think that was the sole reason why.  He’d easily dismissed Shiro’s week-long nagging only to succumb to a pair of ocean blue eyes and a pretty smile?

Seemed pretty gay, even by Keith’s standards.

Keith decided he was here for the promise of free booze and a hit off of Matt’s stash.  Poor choice substance use may be, it was a better excuse in Keith’s mind.  No one needed to know he was here specifically hoping to impress some guy who up until today had been basically a complete ass to him.  Even if said guy was actually really cute and very smart and surprisingly funny and _god_ Keith did not want to deal with this train of thought right now.

Keith was nearly knocked off his feet from behind as a wave of people arrived at the party, none of them focused on the lone student standing in the middle of the sidewalk.  Keith decided that was as good motivation as any to leave right now, before anyone he knew could see him.

“Keith!”

Keith sighed, turning toward the sound of his name.  Matt Holt was striding toward him, a lazy grin on his face, and when he was close enough he immediately dropped an arm around Keith’s shoulders.

“Sup, Grumpy?”

“That’s not my name, Matt.”

“Should be,” Matt snickered, taking a puff from the fat joint between his fingers.  As he exhaled, he offered it to Keith.  “Want some?”

Keith plucked the joint from Matt’s hand and took a deep drag before handing it back.  “Where’s Shiro?”

“Went to find Adam,” Matt supplied with a vague hand wave toward the house.  “Can’t believe you actually came, dude.  Shiro thought it was a lost cause.”

“Well, here I am,” Keith said, stuffing one hand in his jeans pocket even has he snagged the joint back from Matt with the other.  “I was promised beer and good weed.”

“You’re halfway there,” Matt laughed.  “But you definitely have both those things at your apartment.  Why are you here looking all fancy?”

“Shiro says social interaction is good for me,” Keith said, coughing a bit when he inhaled just a bit too much smoke.  “I think that’s bullshit.”

“He’s full of bullshit,” Matt agreed.  “Hey, you know what’s bullshit?”

“What?”

“What?”

“What’s bullshit?”

“Who’s bullshit?”

Keith rolled his eyes and handed the joint back to Matt.  “Okay, you’re stoned and I’m going inside.”

“I’ve got more where this came from if you’re interested!”

“Later, Matt.”

“Bye Grumpy!”

Keith wove his way through the throng of drunk partiers, uncertain of what he was really looking for.  People crowded in from all directions, some swaying more than others to the beat of the loud music pouring from the surround sound system.  Over toward the far wall looked to be the hub of the dancing, and Keith elected to stay far, far away from that space.  He stumbled across the kitchen, where the drinks were apparently in ready supply, and found two familiar faces there.  Pidge was seated on the counter while Hunk stood beside them, and the two of them seemed to be intensely focused on a single, red plastic cup.

“What’s goin’ on?” Keith asked, lifting his voice to be heard over the thump of the music.  It was dulled here in the kitchen, but still bass-boosted enough to shake the floor beneath Keith’s feet.

“Keith!” Pidge shouted, nearly knocking over the cup.  “Hunk and I are inventing a drink.”

“What kind of drink?”

A wicked smile curled across Pidge’s face.  “Taste test it for us.”

“No.”

“Aw, c’mon, Keith.”

“I don’t think I trust you enough yet,” Keith said.  “Hunk maybe.  You? I can sense that you’re eviler than you let on.”

Pidge snorted.  “Eviler?”

“Yeah, eviler,” Keith said, bending to retrieve a beer from one of the coolers in front of him.

“I’m okay with that assumption being made about me,” Pidge said, returning their attention to the cup.  Their gaze flicked quickly back to Keith.  “You look fancy.”

Keith tossed a hand in the air.  “Why do people keep saying that?”

“Because you’re all dressed up.”

“I’m wearing jeans!”

“But they’re jeans that make your ass look good,” Pidge pointed out.  “Objectively speaking.  I’m not interested.”

Keith blinked twice, trying to process the statement before quickly giving up.  “That’s not fancy.”

“Whatever you say, Fancy Pants,” Pidge said.  “Hunk, this needs more coconut rum.”

“Coconut rum, coming up,” Hunk said.

“I think I saw Shiro and Adam on the back porch, if that’s who you were looking for, Keith,” Pidge offered.  “They were looking for Matt.”

“Matt’s out front,” Keith said.  “Stoned out of his mind.”

“What else is new?” Pidge snorted.  “Anyway, Shiro _said_ they were looking for Matt, but Adam seemed like he had other plans.”

Keith winced.  “Now I don’t even want to think about the porch.”

Pidge rolled their eyes.  “Mood.”

“I guess I’ll wander,” Keith said.  “Don’t drink that.”

“It’s made to be drunk, Keith!” Pidge protested loudly.  “We just need someone gullible enough to test it for us before _we_ drink it.  Ooh, Lance is here, isn’t he?”

“Yeah somewhere,” Hunk said.  “He’d definitely do it on a dare.”

“If you see Lance, send him our way,” Pidge demanded as Keith headed out of the kitchen.

The frat house was big – which was apparent from the outside, but strange to experience from the inside.  The mass of swarming bodies didn’t help either.  In his attempts to figure out where the back porch was (or the front door, or any kind of exit, really) he found himself sticking toward the thinnest parts of the crowd and eventually found himself in a wide hallway that stank of weed and something sharper, almost plastic-y.  There were a few doors lining the way, most closed but a few cracked just enough for Keith to get a vague idea of the not-so-private happenings that were going on inside. 

It was shady, but it was quiet, Keith figured.  He climbed about halfway up the stairs and sat with one shoulder to the wall, pulling out his phone to text Shiro.  He was already regretting coming to this party, but he at least wanted to see Shiro before he bailed so his roommate would get off his case.  Keith shot off a quick text, asking where Shiro was.  He waited a few minutes with no reply, and hoped Shiro wasn’t too occupied to check his phone once in a while.  The bit of weed he’d smoked with Matt outside earlier wasn’t enough to quell the anxiety rising in Keith’s chest from being in a strange, loud environment.

“Hey baby, I been looking for you.”

“Sorry, dude, not interested.”

“Really? ‘Cuz the way you were dancing back there suggests otherwise.”

Keith lifted his head as he recognized one of the voices, coming from just around the corner of the dark hallway, no more than a few feet away from where Keith sat.

Lance laughed, too sharp and high pitched to be natural.  “Fuck off, Dak.”

“I could make you feel real good.”

“Get away from me, you’re drunk,” Lance bit out.

“You fuckin—”

Keith stood up, taking the few steps down to hallway level and stepping into view.  The jock who had cornered Lance against the wall looked at Keith with distaste painted on his expression.  “Nothin’ to see here, bitch.”

“I’m sure, because you were just leaving,” Keith said, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets.  He glanced sidelong at Lance to see the other man staring at him.  “After all, he said he wasn’t interested.”

The muscles in Dak’s jaw flexed a few times as he apparently decided whether punching Keith in the face would be worth it.  In the end, he just scoffed and pushed off the wall, deliberately shoving against Keith’s shoulder as he passed him and headed back down the hallway toward the thick of the party.

“Thanks man,” Lance said, sagging back against the wall, his angry gaze pinned to the spot where the jock had disappeared.  “I owe you one.”

“You okay?”

“I will be.”

“Do you need to sit for a minute?” Keith asked.

Lance nodded, taking a seat on the stairs.  Keith did the same, sitting beside Lance with the space of only a few inches between them.  “Jesus, I fucking hate that asshole.”

“Do you know him?”

Lance shrugged, his gaze fixed absently on a crack in the plaster of the wall beside him.  “We fucked once,” Lance admitted.  “Freshman year.  Not really a high point in my life, but I was finally out of my parents house and feeling ‘rebellious’ or something.”

Keith nodded, careful to school his face into something neutral.  Part of him wanted to go kick that Dak guy’s ass for not taking no for an answer, and part of him wanted to end the conversation here – because Lance was probably feeling vulnerable and he didn’t owe Keith any kind of explanation.  A third, smaller part of him wanted to give Lance a hug, but he quickly ruled that one out.

Lance shook his head, running the back of his hand under his nose.  “Stupid.  Should’ve expected that.”

“Hey, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Keith asked.  “You said you weren’t interested in a guy you fucked _once_ , years ago?  You don’t owe him anything.”

“I’m not disagreeing,” Lance said.  “It just sucks.”

For all that Keith wanted to say _something_ – something to reassure Lance that he wasn’t stupid and his reputation wasn’t based in some stupid mistakes he might have made in the past; something to reassure Lance that Keith didn’t see him that way and quite frankly was more than a bit inclined to fight anyone who _did_ – his brain supplied nothing.  He had no experience with such things, and was barely competent at basic human interaction as it was.  There was nothing profound that Keith could say to make Lance feel better, and he felt so fucking useless for it.

Instead, Keith knocked his knee against Lance’s.  “Pidge and Hunk were in the kitchen making some godawful cocktail that probably tastes disgusting,” he said.  “Wanna go see who can drink the most without vomiting?”

Lance turned his head to finally look at Keith and cracked a smile.  “You’re on, Mullet.”

 

* * *

 

 

The drink was terrible, and neither Keith nor Lance could get more than a sip in before spewing it halfway across the kitchen.  They desperately grabbed for something else to wash the taste out of their mouths and wound up chugging beer as Pidge glanced in the cup containing the terrible concoction and added a splash of Jägermeister.  Matt wandered through a few minutes later and without prompting, took the cup from Pidge’s hand.  The four stared at him with mouths agape as he drained it in one go, wincing slightly at the end.  “Oh, that was gross.  Who made that?”

Pidge blinked a few times at their older brother, looking like they were questioning every one of his life’s choices.  “What _are_ you?”

Matt grinned.  “Yeah.”

“That wasn’t…” Lance quickly shook his head.  “Never mind.  I’ve never had an interaction with Matt that made sense anyway.”

“Dude, what the hell are you smoking tonight?” Keith asked.

“Who’s seen Adam?” Matt asked.

“I haven’t seen him since we got here,” Pidge supplied.  “Backyard, but that was a long time ago.”

“I’ll help you,” Lance volunteered.  “What’s he look like?”

“Tall, brown hair, glasses,” Matt said.

“Uh, that’s you, dude.”

“No, I’m Matt.”

“You described yourself,” Lance said.

“No, cuz I look like Pidge, and Adam doesn’t look like Pidge.”

“I see your last brain cell is hard at work for you, Matty,” Pidge said, rolling their eyes.  “Adam is probably with Shiro, and I know you know what Shiro looks like, Lance.”

“I’ll come help,” Keith offered.

“Yeah, man,” Matt said, lifting both his hands in the air to high five both Keith and Lance at once.  “Let’s go.”

Matt almost immediately disappeared into the crowd, leaving Lance and Keith in the dust.  So much for helping him find Adam and Shiro, Keith guessed.  Whatever, Matt could fend for himself.  Lance’s hand found its way to Keith’s wrist – either to make sure they didn’t get separated from each other in the mass of people, or to help direct Keith the way that Lance wanted them to go, Keith wasn’t sure.  Either way, Lance seemed to know his way around the house and quickly led Keith down a hallway and into a second room with a large glass window with a sliding door set in it.  There were fewer people out this way, but the back porch was still well populated. 

The door was already open, and Lance easily slipped through, tugging Keith along behind him.  Out on the porch, they glanced around and Keith spotted a familiar face in the crowd.  “Hey Shiro!”

Shiro’s head turned at the sound of his name and he smiled as he recognized who was approaching.  Shiro was standing near the railing of the deck, chatting with a few of the seniors of the house.  Adam was perched on the railing beside Shiro, his knee knocking into Shiro’s arm.  “Hey Keith! You actually came!”

Keith shrugged, shoulders curling inward as the attention turned toward him.  “Yeah, you were on my ass about it all week.”

Shiro grinned, taking a few steps forward to pat Keith on the back and welcome him in.  “I’m glad you did!  Have you seen anyone you know?”

“Lance,” Keith said, turning his head to find Lance a few paces away.  He’d let go of Keith’s hand when they caught sight of Shiro.  “And Pidge and Hunk.  Also Matt was looking for you, Adam.  No clue why.”

“Or where he went,” Lance put in, stepping closer with a friendly grin on his face.

“Good to see you, Lance,” Shiro said, reaching out to shake Lance’s hand.  “Have you met Adam?”

“No, I haven’t,” Lance said, shaking first Shiro’s hand and then Adam’s as the stranger relinquished his spot on the railing and maneuvered the two beers he was holding to properly meet Lance.  “Nice to meet you, man.  I’m Lance.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Having fun yet, Lance?” Shiro asked.

“Just getting started, my man,” Lance said.  “How about you?”

“Oh just catching up with some of my brothers,” Shiro said, gesturing toward the seniors he’d been chatting with.  “Giving them a few pointers about how to graduate gracefully.”

Keith snorted.  “You’re two years into med school and you’re spending your Friday night at a kegger thrown by your old frat.”

The seniors started chanting something that could have easily been either a football thing or an ancient curse, but Keith extrapolated it had something to do with being in the frat.  Shiro laughed, obviously in on the joke.  “I’m telling you, Keith,” Shiro said.  “A fraternity is more than a bunch of assholes throwing a kegger.”

Adam draped a forearm over Shiro’s shoulder.  “I feel obligated to tell you that watching you tonight is like watching someone’s dad try to reminisce about the good old days while he’s taking his kid to orientation at his alma matter.”

Shiro’s eye twitched at the comment, which made Keith laugh.

“I’m gonna go find the stoner,” Adam said, handing Shiro one of the two beers he’d been holding.  “You good here, Takashi?  I’m sure you’ve got a few more dad jokes to tell.”

“Fuck off,” Shiro said, but there was a tell-tale smile twitching at his lips even as he shoved Adam away and into the crowd.  Shiro chatted a few more minutes with Keith and Lance before the chanting from the frat boys started up again and Shiro was swept away in an impenetrable wall of Chads, Brads, and Joshes.

“I still don’t know how _that guy_ wound up loving frat life,” Lance said, chuckling.  “He’s stacked, but he’s also the world’s nicest person?”

“He’s secretly a bro,” Keith offered.  “He hides it well, but trust me.  We share a bathroom, I know all his flaws.”

“I’ll take your word for it, man,” Lance said, taking a sip of his beer and finding he’d already drained it.  “You wanna grab another drink?”

“Sure,” Keith said.  “You’re gonna have to get us back there, because I have no clue how we got here.”

Lance laughed, taking Keith’s hand up again.  His palm was warm but not clammy; soft against Keith’s but with a firm grasp.  “Don’t worry, I got you.”

 

It was too loud for Keith to have a firm sense of time passing.  If given the opportunity, his anxiety would have crested, rising too high to be contained, but for whatever reason, Lance had chosen to stay at Keith’s side and distracted him from the overwhelming atmosphere and the drunk strangers.  Keith’s next beer went more or less untouched after Lance handed it to him, growing warm and gathering condensation in Keith’s hand as Lance easily navigated them through the party house.

“Do you want to dance or anything?”

Keith shook his head.  “I can’t dance.”

Lance lifted a brow.  “I’ll teach you.”

Keith’s lower lip found its way between his teeth as he shook his head again.  “Nah.”

Lance shrugged, leaning back against an out of the way wall.  “You’re not much of a partier, I’m guessing.”

“Ah, no,” Keith said.  “The opposite, actually.”

“What’s the opposite?”

“Bookworm,” Keith said.  “Parties have too many people.”

“Books have people,” Lance pointed out.

“People in books are easier to read,” Keith said.  “No pun intended.”

Lance snorted, an amused grin spreading across his face.  “That was bad.”

“I just don’t get it?” Keith said.  “Like, how is this enjoyable? I can’t hear myself think.”

“That’s kind of the point, I think,” Lance said, glancing out across the throng of students.  “No thinking required.  You can just kind of lose yourself.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Keith said.  “It’s still fucking loud.”

Someone yelled – deep and loud to sound above the music – and Lance tensed beside Keith.  Keith’s gaze was drawn toward the sound and saw the jock who had been harassing Lance earlier a few yards away, flanked by three or four equally jacked dudes.  Keith didn’t hesitate to grab Lance’s hand and pull him around the corner, out the sliding door, and down the porch stairs.  Outside it was easier to think, and Keith glanced back to make sure the jocks hadn’t been targeting Lance specifically and followed them.

“Thanks,” Lance said quietly.  Keith was suddenly hyper aware of the way Lance’s hand felt in his.  “I owe you two, now.”

“You don’t,” Keith said, shaking his head.  “You don’t owe me anything.”

Lance’s blue gaze flicked over Keith’s face, as if gauging his sincerity.  “What if I want to?”

Keith shrugged.  “It’s not a debt, then.”

Lance’s mouth curled upwards, tongue flicking out ever so briefly to wet his lips.  “Sage.”

“Hey Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop me if I’m wrong.”

Keith leaned forward, slowly, to give Lance the opportunity to react.  The brief look of confusion on Lance’s face quickly morphed into surprise, but he didn’t push Keith away as Keith pressed their lips together.  Lance’s lips were just as warm as his hands.  Lance shifted and Keith pulled back, expecting to be told off, maybe have a drink thrown in his face, but Lance’s hands were coming up to rest against Keith’s chest and he was parting his lips, leaning back in for more.  Mildly stunned by Lance’s easy reciprocation, Keith froze.  He’d _hoped_ to get this far but hadn’t believed he really would.  Fortunately, Lance’s movements were easy to follow and Keith did so eagerly, a thrill racing through his stomach at the feeling of Lance’s plush lower lip between his own.

 Feeling brave, Keith swiped his tongue across Lance’s lip and was rewarded with Lance’s mouth parting further, welcoming him in.  He tasted vaguely like the same stale beer on Keith’s own tongue with a faint hint of toothpaste, but Keith was immediately intoxicated by it.  His hand came up to rest on Lance’s lower back, pulling him closer.  Lance made a faint, breathy noise, nipping gently at Keith’s lips before surging forward to deepen their kiss even further, licking his own way into Keith’s mouth in a way that made Keith’s knees nearly buckle.

Time and the bass-boosted party remix and the dozens of partiers only a few feet above their heads on the porch faded from Keith’s consciousness as every last one of his senses was flooded with _Lance_.  Lance’s mouth, hot and slick against his own.  Lance’s hands, curling in the thin fabric of Keith’s t-shirt.  Lance’s breath, warm and labored as breathing took a backseat to tongues curling against each other. 

Keith’s phone vibrated in his pocket, bringing both men out of their fervent kiss and back into reality.  Keith flicked an apologetic glance toward Lance, watching Lance run a slim, tanned hand across his kiss-reddened mouth.  Keith fumbled getting his phone out of his pocket and nearly dropped it as he tried to answer.  “Hello?”

“Keith, Shiro’s about to do a _fucking_ keg stand you have to get up here right now!” Keith winced, pulling his phone away from his ear as Pidge’s voice shrieked through the receiver.  “I can’t fucking believe this!”

“Where are you?” Keith asked, glancing again at Lance, who was staring absently at the phone in Keith’s hand.

“Front lawn!  Hurry!”

“Keg stands?” Lance asked, his gaze snapping back to Keith’s as Keith slid his phone back in his pocket.

“Apparently so,” Keith said.  “We’re recording this so we can blackmail him forever.”

The back of Lance’s hand brushed against Keith’s as they headed around the side of the house, but he did not make to join them together.  Keith’s heart was still pounding from the kiss, and his body was buzzing to do it again.  They made it to the front of the house just in time to catch sight of Shiro suspended in a handstand on top of the keg.  Pidge was recording with a gleeful look on their face as Adam stared down at Shiro, arms crossed and a half-disappointed, half-amused expression on his face.  A few of the frat boys Shiro had been with earlier stood nearby, counting how long the stand was.  Keith wasn’t certain how long the average keg stand was, but as the Chad Wall counted steadily higher, Keith was convinced it couldn’t be healthy.  Eventually, Shiro bent, swinging his legs down with a bit of help from the people around to steady him.  He stood up straight with a grin, wavering ever so slightly on his feet.  “Fuckin’ told you I could still do a keg stand, Adam.”

“Was that supposed to be impressive?” Keith asked with a smirk, lifting his voice to be heard.

“Shut the fuck off, bitch,” Shiro slurred in his direction.  “I’m still the keg stand record holder of Theta Phi Kappa!”  This statement received a large cheer from the surrounding frat members.

“Truly, you should be memorialized,” Adam said dryly, watching as Shiro staggered a few steps away from the keg to make room for the next poor bastard to attempt it.

“I think his picture’s up on a wall in the dining room, actually,” Lance offered.  “So he kinda was.”

“ _Thank you_ , Lance!” Shiro said, stabbing a finger in the air before aiming it at Adam’s chest.  “I’m the _king_.”

“Sure you are, buddy.”

“You’re also technically not of legal drinking age,” Matt pointed out.

“ _What_?” Lance and Hunk chorused together.

“He’s six,” Adam said, chuckling.

“I’m six and a _half_ , so shut the fuck up,” Shiro said.

“Leap year baby,” Pidge said, shaking their head.  “That joke never gets old.”  Pidge’s gaze lifted from their rewatch of Shiro’s keg stand on their phone screen to assess Keith and Lance’s presence.  “Where were you two?”

Keith’s stomach flipped, his brain spinning for a response.

“Backyard,” Lance offered easily before Keith could spiral too deep, his voice casual.  “It’s quieter back there.”

Shiro bent over, face contorting in a concerning expression.  “Oh no.”

“You gonna ralph, dude?” Matt asked.

Shiro shook his head, but the green tint to his face was suggesting contrary.  “I think it’s my bed time.”

Adam snorted, leaning sympathetically to pat Shiro on the back.  “We didn’t drive, are you gonna make it home?”

Shiro took a deep breath, straightening.  “Yeah.”

“Hey Keith, I might need your help getting him home,” Adam said.

“I can help,” Keith said, stepping forward immediately.  He glanced back at Lance to see the other man staring at Shiro in concern.  He didn’t look too broken up by the idea of Keith’s departure.  He nodded toward Pidge and Hunk.  “See you guys next week.”

“Feel better, Keg Stand Baby,” Pidge said, patting the highest point of Shiro’s chest that they could reach.  It landed somewhere around his left shoulder.

Adam and Keith each got a shoulder under one of Shiro’s arms and started on their way down the block.  Shiro chattered drunkenly with Adam, but Keith’s mind was back in the backyard of the frat house, every detail of his kiss with Lance on endless repeat.

Monday was gonna be weird.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey if you’re gonna be fucking loud at five am, at least make me breakfast,” Keith said, irritation overpowering the exhaustion in his voice. 

“I’ll make you a protein shake,” Shiro offered, hitting the blender button.

“I thought you bought that stupid shaker bottle so we could go back to letting me sleep until my 9am alarm,” Keith said, yelling over the whirring blender.

“I lost the ball for it,” Shiro shouted back.

Keith collapsed at their kitchen table, one leg folded beneath him on the chair and both arms splayed out across the surface.  When the blender finally ceased, Keith lifted his head and glared blearily at Shiro.  “I actually hate you.”

Shiro shrugged.  “Sorry my dude.”

“Adam, can I kill him?” Keith shouted, turning his head toward the hallway.

“I’d prefer you didn’t, but the blender thing was a dick move,” Adam called back from the bathroom.

“It’s not even that loud!” Shiro protested.

“It’s _fucking_ loud,” Keith said vehemently.  “If it wasn’t, I would be blissfully asleep right now.”

“I’ll make it up to you later, Sleeping Beauty,” Shiro said.

“Bull.”

“Hey Siri, put ‘Find Keith A Prince Charming Who Can Wake Him Up Without Him Turning Into A Huge Bitch’ on my to-do list.”

“ _Adding to your to-do list._ ”

“Hey Siri, tell Shiro to butt the fuck out,” Keith said.

“Ooh, someone’s testy this morning,” Shiro teased.  “What, you got a crush you don’t want me to know about?”

“How did your dumb fucking blender waking me up at an ungodly hour of the morning become about my love life?”

“So you admit there is a love life?”

“I admit I’m tempted to end yours,” Keith said.  “There’s a drawer full of butter knives and I know how to use them.”

“Just because you’re repressed and horny doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me,” Shiro said, frowning.

“I’m not repressed.”

“So just horny?”

“Make me breakfast, asshole,” Keith said, hoping his hair was covering his face enough to disguise the blush he could feel rising to the surface.

“What do you want?” Shiro asked, shit eating grin permanently embedded into his face.  “Some fat, juicy sausage?”

“Adam, I’m gonna murder your boyfriend after I feed him his own dick,” Keith yelled, pushing himself up from the table.

“Okay, if the cops ask, I was in the shower,” Adam yelled back.

“Love you too, babe,” Shiro shouted, stepping around the island in the kitchen as Keith approached menacingly.

“And I may marry Matt after the appropriate mourning period.”

“I call best man,” Keith said, deciding he was too tired to carry the physical aspect of the joke any further.  He instead moved to the fridge and pulled out the orange juice.

“You have to mourn at least as long as we dated!”

“Six months, _tops_ ,” Keith said, taking a swig from the carton.

“This doesn’t involve you, Keith!”

“You’re not even _engaged_ , six months is a completely reasonable time frame for Adam to abstain before succumbing to the warm embrace of the geology nerd,” Keith argued.

“We’ve been dating for three years! He can’t get over me that quickly!”

“I’ll wait however long it takes Keith to get out of prison for murdering you,” Adam said, finally coming out of the bathroom.  “Final answer.”

“Just know that if you murder me off, my long-lost twin brother who may or may not be a clone sent by the Russian government is going to show up in my place,” Shiro said dramatically, pouring his protein shake into his to-go cup.  “You wanna come to the gym with us, Keith?”

“It’s five am.”

“You always do the gym on Mondays.”

“Yeah, after I’ve slept,” Keith said.  “You know I only went to bed, like, three hours ago, right?  Because I’m a good roommate and I know you two fuck here on Sunday nights, so I steer clear until I’m sure you’re both unconscious so I don’t have to overhear anything too regrettable.”

“If you’ve heard us once, you’ve heard us a hundred times,” Shiro hummed flippantly.

“Unfortunately, I have,” Keith deadpanned.  “Hence the precaution of coming home at two am.” 

“Let’s go before Keith wakes up and realizes his capacity for murder,” Adam said, shouldering the duffel bag that sat near the front door.

“Bye Sleeping Beauty,” Shiro said, waggling his fingers.

Keith gave them both the middle finger as they left.  He put the orange juice back in the fridge and headed for his room.  Shiro could deal with backwash orange juice as revenge for being The Worst.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith realized as he walked to his first class that he had no idea of Lance’s schedule.  This thought was unsettling to Keith in several ways.  Firstly, it implied that he _wanted_ to know Lance’s schedule and that set Keith’s stomach churning in a whole different way.  Secondly, it reminded him that he barely knew Lance outside of the one class they had together and a handful of shared shifts at the Language Lab.  Thirdly, it had Keith scanning the surroundings he usually paid no mind to as he walked from his apartment to his first class.  There was no sign of the lanky Latino, because there never had been in the past and that had no reason to change just because Keith could stop _thinking_ about him and Keith couldn’t quite tell if he’d been hoping to see him or hoping to avoid him.  Even after spending the whole weekend trying (and completely failing) not to think about it, Keith had no idea what he was going to say to Lance when he saw him.  What was _Lance_ going to say?

God, he was definitely making this out to be a bigger deal than it actually was.

After two classes in a row that he barely made a scribble in his notes, Keith made his way to the Language Lab.  He knew Lance was the evening tutor, and it was barely one pm, but he knew where Allura kept the master schedules and he had to do _something_ to alleviate this stupid tension that had his knee jiggling beneath the desk and his brain moving at a hundred miles a minute.

Speak of the devil.

Keith’s boss was sitting at her desk between the Language Labs when Keith made it there.  Her platinum braids were piled on top of her head in an artfully messy fashion as she poured over a pile of paperwork.  Since Keith worked in the evenings, he didn’t see Allura too often.  She’d been friends with Shiro, Matt, and Adam in undergrad, and was, in Keith’s opinion, pretty cool as far as bosses went.  “Keith! Good afternoon!”

“Hey Allura,” Keith said, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.  “What’s goin’ on?”

“Just going through the sessions logs from last week,” she replied.  “What are you doing? You don’t work on Mondays.”

“I wanted to glance at the schedule if you have it handy,” Keith said.

“Oh, certainly,” Allura said, pointing toward the filing cabinet in the corner.  “Top drawer.  Are you needing to switch your hours at all?”

“No, I think I’m good,” Keith said, heading for the cabinet.  “It fits in well with my library schedule.”

“Wonderful!” Allura hummed, turning her attention back to the paperwork as she tugged a pencil out of her hair.  “Don’t forget, I’m still looking for volunteers to work the Language Lab table at the Campus Events Fair.  The Lab will be closed because it’s a reading day.”

“Yeah, I’ll work it,” Keith said, tugging out one of the schedule binders in the front of the drawer.

“Perfect, I’ll put you down!” Allura said.  “I’ve got the early shifts covered from both centers, but I’m still working on recruiting one of the Spanish tutors to work from two to five with you.  If all else fails, I’ll sit with you!”

“Cool,” Keith said, flipping through the binder casually.  His eyes scanned the page until he found the name he was looking for.  Monday through Thursday, four to seven; Friday, one to four.  Since Keith’s library shift started at four today as well, it looked like he’d have to wait until tomorrow to talk to Lance.  He slid the binder back into the cabinet.  “Thanks.”

“Was that all you needed?” Allura asked, glancing up briefly from her work.  “To look through the Spanish Room schedule?”

Keith flushed red, slamming the file drawer shut a little too hard.  “ _No_.”

Allura didn’t look convinced, but she only flicked her eyebrows up a bit before bending her head back down over her desk.  “Well, just let me know if you’re planning to change majors.”

“I’m not,” Keith said.  “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Keith.”

Keith headed upstairs with regret burning across his cheeks.  He greeted the student worker behind the desk with a nod and stashed his backpack behind the circulation desk.  He was early, but he also didn't care.  The last thing Keith wanted today was more human interaction, so since there was already a student worker supervising the desk, he grabbed a cart full of returns and headed for the most unpopulated section of the library.

The trouble with returns was that it didn’t occupy much brain space, so Keith’s mind tended to wander.  A fine diversion on a normal evening, but difficult when the place Keith’s mind kept wandering was the one thing he didn’t want to think about.  It was fine, Keith told himself.  He’d think about… homework.  Yeah, homework.  He had a page of the sociology packet left that he and Lance hadn’t gotten through before--- _fuck_.  Keith needed to shake this.  One stupid kiss didn’t need to get under his skin like this, even if it had been _forever_ since he’d gotten any kind of action.  It didn’t need to be the only thing on his mind, even if Keith really, _really_ wanted to do it again.  Do _more_ than that, even. 

The thought flashed through Keith’s mind before he could stop it.  He’d been telling himself all weekend that he didn’t know, but he _did_.  He wanted to sleep with Lance.  He really, _really_ wanted to sleep with Lance.

He wasn’t sure if that was something he wanted to tell Lance or not.

Keith was on his third cart of returns when he heard his name being called.  “Keith?!”

Keith stepped out around the corner of the aisle he was in to shush whoever was yelling his name and found himself toe to toe with Lance.  Keith blinked, realizing he was close enough to count the threads in Lance’s t-shirt.  Keith couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath, registering the scent of sea salt and coconut oil wafting off of Lance as he did so.  Lance didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh hey, I found you,” Lance said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  He had a lopsided smile on his face, but his eyes were lined with apprehension.

“Did you have to go screeching through the whole library?” Keith asked, pulling his cart closer and resuming his task.

Lance rolled his eyes, leaning a shoulder against the end of the nearest shelf.  “I was _trying_ to find you.”

“So you started echolocating?”

“I asked Allura if you worked on Mondays, and she said you worked at the library, so when I got off work, I asked at the desk and they said you’d be back here somewhere,” Lance said.  “It’s a big library.”

“Yeah, _library_ being the operative word.”

“Are you, like, mad at me?” Lance asked.  “Because I just came here to talk to you about what happened on Friday.”  Lance glance around and leaned in, whispering furtively.  “You know, when we kissed.”

“I’m not mad,” Keith said, stilling in his reshelving to look up at Lance.  After pausing for a moment, Keith pushed the book fully into its space and stood back up.  “We can talk.”

“Okay,” Lance said, exhaling like he’d been holding his breath.  “Because I’ve been kicking myself all weekend and I wish I could take it back.”

Keith flinched like he’d been stung.  “Wow, okay, you really know how to flatter a guy.”

“Whoa, no, like,” Lance started, holding his hands out.  “Shit, I just – I just meant that I feel really bad.  Like I know we had both been drinking and were probably under some impaired judgement, but I shouldn’t have let it go on like that.  Just because I sleep around sometimes doesn’t mean I’m a fucking _homewrecker_ , and I—”

“Wait, wait, _what_?” Keith asked, brow furrowing deeply.  “You have a girlfriend?”

“What?? No!” Lance exclaimed.  “You! You do!”

“I’m fucking _gay_ , you doorknob,” Keith bit out.  “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“You have a _boyfriend_ ,” Lance spit, like Keith was being intentionally difficult.  “And I’m sorry I kissed you because even if I do find you _really_ attractive I’m definitely _not_ the kind of guy to make a move on someone who’s already in a relationship.”

Keith stared at Lance like he’d just grown a second head.  “What the fuck?”

“I just, like, don’t want to ruin us becoming friends just because I couldn’t chill for two seconds,” Lance said.  “And it’s not just because I know Shiro could rip me the fuck in half.  It was disrespectful and I really wish--”

“Lance, stop,” Keith said, holding up a hand.  “Do you think that Shiro and I are dating?”

“You…” Lance faltered, his brows knitting together low on his forehead.  “…yeah?”

Keith lifted a single eyebrow.  “Sounds like you’re drawing conclusions about me again, Lance.”

Lance threw his hands in the air.  “This was definitely a conclusion grounded in both reason and logic!”

“Not from where I’m standing,” Keith said, crossing his arms over his chest.  “Please tell me what irrefutable evidence you were supplied that made you think that I was dating Shiro.”

Lance held up his index finger.  “You’re both gay.”

“Lots of people are gay.  _You’re_ kinda gay.”

Lance held up a second finger.  “You live together.”

“We’re roommates!”

“You talk about him constantly.”

“He’s my _only friend_.”

“In class, Pidge asked if you were ‘Shiro’s Keith’ and you said yes,” Lance said, four fingers now in the air. 

“Okay, I don’t have an excuse for that one outside of I knew what they meant?”

Lance rolled his eyes, dropping his hand to his side.  “But you can see now that I had plenty of evidence for coming to that conclusion.”

“He has a boyfriend!  You _met_ his boyfriend!”

“Who very well could have been you! How was I supposed to know he had a _different_ boyfriend?”

“Still seems like a stretch,” Keith said.  “He’s practically my brother.”

“Okay,” Lance said, his eyes darting from side to side as if trying to connect all the pieces.  “So.”

“So?”

“You’re not?”

Keith levelled a flat look at Lance.  “No, Lance.  I’m not dating Shiro.  I’m not dating _anyone_.  It’s not really my thing.”  _Only because you’ve never done it_ , Keith’s brain supplied unhelpfully, but he managed to keep a lid on his tongue.  Lance didn’t need to know that much.  Nobody did.  His quirks were his own, thank you very much.

“Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool,” Lance said rapidly, nodding as he did so.  “Glad we cleared that up.”

Keith studied Lance for a moment.  “If you hated it, you can say so,” Keith said.  “The kiss,” he clarified after a moment.  “And if you want to pretend it never happened, that’s okay.”

“What?! No!” Lance said, jolting backward.  His gaze narrowed slightly as it met Keith’s.  “Do you want to pretend it never happened?”

“No,” Keith said certainly.  “I want to do it again.”

“Yeah?”

Keith nodded, plucking another book off the cart so he didn’t have to look Lance directly in the eye.  “Yeah.”

“Oh thank god,” Lance breathed, and before Keith could blink, Lance was on him, spinning him around to press his back to the stacks.  “I’ve wanted to do this all fucking weekend.”  And with that, Lance was devouring Keith’s mouth like a man who had been presented his first meal in days. 

Keith dropped the book that had been in his hand in favor of getting both his hands on Lance.  Lance’s mouth was even more welcoming than he remembered as Keith parted his lips eagerly, Lance’s tongue right there to tangle against Keith’s.  Keith slid one of his hands along Lance’s waist, his fingers catching on a beltloop and tugging him closer.  A shiver ran up Keith’s spine as Lance’s soft hand slid across the back of Keith’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

If the kiss at the party had been good, this one was _earth-shaking_.  It was deeper, fiercer, hungrier, as if they’d had a taste three days ago and spent the time since craving each other’s mouths.  They both knew what they wanted, and the other seemed eager to give it to them.

They broke apart, breathless, even as Keith felt drawn back in like a magnet.  “I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” Lance breathed, trailing his lips along Keith’s jaw and sending hot sparks racing along Keith’s skin at the touch.  “Kept thinking about your mouth.”

“What about it?” Keith asked, his voice rumbling out at a deeper register than he recognized from himself.

“How pretty it is,” Lance said, his voice low as he ghosted kisses against the spot below Keith’s ear.  “So fuckin’ pretty, all bruised and red.  Bet you know how to use it real good, don’t you, Keith?”

Arousal surged through Keith’s veins at the suggestion.  “Yeah? You want me to show you?”

Lance groaned like Keith had punched the air right out of his lungs.  “You have no idea.”

“Not here,” Keith said, a bit stronger now.  “Can’t do it here.”

“What time are you off?” Lance asked.

“Eight,” Keith said.  “Give me your number, I’ll text you my address.”

“You have a roommate,” Lance pointed out.

“He spends Monday nights at his boyfriend’s,” Keith said.  “Won’t be back ‘til tomorrow.”

Lance sucked a harsher kiss below Keith’s ear before pulling away entirely.  Keith fished his phone out of his pocket, handing it over to Lance to enter his contact information.  Keith immediately sent the address to Lance, and smiled as the vibration notification echoed from Lance’s front pocket. 

“I’ll see you at eight,” Lance said.

Keith smiled.  “You better be on time.”


	5. Chapter 5

Lance was standing outside of Keith’s building as Keith approached.  He was illuminated by the fading daylight and the outside lights of the apartment building, shifting his weight from foot to foot, checking his phone between glances up to scan the perimeter, presumably for Keith’s approach.  When he spotted Keith, he quickly pocketed his phone and smiled.  “Hey, man.”

“Hey,” Keith responded, moving up the stairs to key in the door code.  He held it open for Lance to follow him inside.  “You still wanna do this?”

“I mean, we didn’t actually talk about what _this_ was gonna be,” Lance said.

“It was implied.”

“Communication is key,” Lance retorted.

“Well, if you thought this invitation was going to be a screening of _I Love You, Man_ or something, you’re in for a real surprise.”

Lance snorted out a laugh as they reached the door to Keith’s apartment.  “ _I Love You, Man?_ ”

Keith shrugged, jangling his keys around until he found the one that opened his apartment.  “First movie that came to mind.”

“Why?”

“I watched it with Matt and Adam the other night,” Keith said, flicking the light on.  “Shiro was hungover and pretending not to be.  He’d never admit it and risk giving up his status as ‘keg stand king’, but he was miserable all weekend and Adam did not pity him for even a minute.  Hence the weird movies with Adam and Matt.”

“Sounds like a good time,” Lance laughed.

“I’m trying to have a better one,” Keith said flatly, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter.

“I think that can be arranged, darlin’,” Lance drawled, glancing around the apartment as Keith disappeared further into the apartment.  The space was clean, even if a bit of clutter clung to the edges of shelves and one chair in the corner that looked like it wasn’t often occupied.

“Don’t call me that,” Keith said, returning from wherever he’d been sans backpack.  He moved around Lance and into the kitchen.  “You want a drink?”

“Nah,” Lance said, leaning against the kitchen island as Keith poured a drink of water from the tap.  “Hey, did you ever get that sociology packet finished?”

Keith shook his head.  “We’re not talking about homework right now, Lance.”

Lance held his hands up in a gesture of surrender.  “Just trying to make small talk. You didn’t want to talk about parameters for this evening, so I’m filling the silence in other ways.”

Keith sat the water down on the counter.  “Okay.  Let’s talk about it.”

“Ground rules?”

“This stays between us,” Keith said immediately. “I don’t like other people knowing my business.”

“Fine by me,” Lance said easily. “I can keep secrets.”

Keith cast a somewhat dubious expression at Lance but didn’t argue.

“What do you want to happen tonight?” Lance asked, a sinfully seductive smile curling across his lips.  For a moment, Keith couldn’t quite decide whether he wanted to punch it or kiss it off his face, but very quickly came to a resolution.

“I want to kiss you again,” Keith said.  “And then I want to suck your dick.”

“That’s all you want to happen?” Lance asked.  “You don’t want me to touch you or anything?”

“You can,” Keith said.  “If you want to.”

“I most _definitely_ want to,” Lance said, his gaze trailing briefly down the length of Keith’s body.  It gave Keith no small amount of pride to know that Lance thought he was attractive, and Keith was tempted to jump his bones right there in the kitchen, but he figured he should probably keep a level head for a couple more minutes.

“I’m not the most experienced,” Keith said.  “And I’m not the best at picking up hints. So you have to tell me what I’m doing right or wrong.”

“Communication. Good.”

“What about you? Ground rules?”

“Don’t fall in love with me,” Lance drawled with a smirk. “And no marks above the chest. You seem bitey.”

“I’m not _bitey_.”

“Hey, I’m all for bitey,” Lance defended. “But I like loose-neck shirts and if you want our relaxation techniques to stay private, you’ve gotta meet me halfway here.”

“Fine.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Lance cooed.  “C’mere, grumpy. Let’s see if we can’t work some of the tension out of your mullet.”

Keith moved closer, coming away from the kitchen counter and around the island to where Lance stood, pulling Lance toward him.  Keith’s hands settled on Lance’s slim hips as he leaned in to slot their mouths together.  They were starting to find a balance now, maybe.  It was not tentative, like at the party, and not desperate, like at the library – no, this kiss was confident in all the right ways, but with an air of them knowing they were allowed to take their time to enjoy it.  No interruptions this time, just the smooth, easy slide of lips and the gentle caress of tongues meeting somewhere in between. 

Keith let Lance nudge his hips back until they met the counter, effectively pinning Keith against the counter.  Keith arched his back, pressing forward into the plane of Lance’s chest.  Lance responded by tilting his head, changing the angle at which their mouths met, and wrapped one hand around the curve of Keith’s ass.  The other hand slid beneath Keith’s shirt to thumb at the bare skin right above the waistband of Keith’s jeans.  “This okay?” Lance asked, pulling away just far enough to look Keith in the eye.

Keith nodded, dipping his head to kiss at the side of Lance’s neck.  “Yeah.  Actually, wait.”

Lance stopped where he was at Keith’s command, watching for further instructions.  Keith pushed him backwards, keeping his hands on Lance’s hips as he guided them around the corner and into the living room.  “Comfier,” Keith said by way of explanation, tugging his shirt over his head as he dropped to the sofa.  He could feel Lance’s gaze burning across the exposed plane of his chest and let his lips quirk up into a satisfied smirk.  “Okay, let’s keep going.”

“As you wish,” Lance said with a smirk, taking his own seat on the couch as he stripped his own shirt over his head.  He leaned down to fit their mouths together again and let his hand slide across Keith’s chest as the other wound its way around the back of Keith’s neck.  Keith leaned into the touch, continuing the kiss for a few more moments before pulling back to resume the path that he had begun kissing and licking down the bronze column of Lance’s neck.  “Shit Keith,” Lance groaned, his fingers tightening on Keith’s ass as he further bared his neck to Keith.  Keith hummed against the dip in Lance’s collarbone, scraping the barest hint of teeth against the skin and smiling as it drew a light moan from Lance’s lips.  “No marks,” Lance reminded him.

“Yes, sir,” Keith said, his lips popping away from the suction he’d been applying to trail his tongue further down, down, until he was sinking to his knees beside the couch.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Lance hissed, his hands falling into Keith’s hair as the nearest point of contact.  His long fingers carded gently through Keith’s hair, rubbing into his scalp so nicely.  “Don’t say shit like that, dude, I did _not_ come prepared.”

“Did I hit something there?” Keith asked, restraining a laugh but not the grin spread across his face.

“We cannot talk about kinks when you’re sitting between my thighs, Keith,” Lance groaned.  “There are only so many things I can concentrate on at one time.”

“I’ll make sure to ask again when I’m not between your legs, then,” Keith responded, popping the button open on Lance’s jeans and tugging them down just a bit.

“Is that an invitation to do this again?” Lance asked, his fingers curling just a bit tighter against Keith’s scalp.

“I haven’t even touched your dick yet,” Keith said, leaning in to mouth at the tent in Lance’s boxers.  “What if I’m really bad?”

“You’re one of the hottest guys I’ve ever met and your mouth is _on_ my crotch, there is no _bad_ in my vocabulary right now, Keith,” Lance said, his fingers flexing and burying themselves deeper in Keith’s hair.  

“You can pull,” Keith told him, looping his fingers over the elastic of Lance’s underwear and dragging it down until Lance’s cock sprung free.  He licked his lips automatically, sizing it up with a glance.  It was long and fit well in Keith’s hand as he wrapped his fingers around the base.  The hair surrounding it was short and well-groomed, proof that Lance took pride in _all_ aspects of his appearance.  It didn’t surprise Keith.  What _did_ surprise Keith was the vibrant blue stain curling around the edge of Lance’s hip.  He couldn’t see the whole tattoo from his position without specifically asking to, but what he could see looked like the crest of a wave.  He filed that away as a mental note for later.

“You sure?” Lance asked, but Keith could feel the scrape of his nails pressing ever-so-slightly harder into Keith’s scalp.

“Yeah, go buckwild man,” Keith said, pushing Lance’s knees apart a bit more to make more room for himself.  Keith could hear the intake of breath from above him accompanied by a gentle tug on his hair as he licked a stripe up the underside of Lance’s cock and sank his lips down over it.

The hand in Keith’s hair tightened a little further, so Keith continued, swirling his tongue around the crown and relaxing his jaw to take more of Lance’s length into his mouth.  The tip of Lance’s cock brushed the smooth roof of Keith’s mouth and Lance let out a strangled noise that made heat curl in Keith’s stomach.  He smirked as best he could with his lips still wrapped around the middle of Lance’s dick.

For all that Lance was talkative everywhere else, Keith had expected him to be a bit more verbose during sex.  It wasn’t so much that he was _quiet_ , but almost as soon Keith had gotten his mouth on him, he’d stopped talking.  The only noises Keith could hear were increasingly breathless pants and the occasional cut-off moan as Keith worked.  The few sparse noises sent jolts of fire down Keith’s spine, contributing to the ache between his own legs.  A glance upward revealed Lance’s mouth moving silently, eyes shut tight, almost like he was praying.  Keith cupped a hand around Lance’s balls, sinking as deeply he could around Lance before hollowing his cheeks and slowly pulling back up until he was sliding off the head with a wet _pop_.  “You good?”  Keith’s voice was raspier than usual, but he was gonna go ahead and chalk that up to the cock he’d just had halfway down his throat.

Lance nodded vigorously, his eyes still shut tight.  He pried them open like it was an afterthought, his chest heaving slightly as he looked down at Keith.  “Are you?”

Keith nodded, loosely gripping Lance in his hand and jacking him off slowly.  “I guess I expected you to be… louder.”

Lance’s face did a strange dance of expressions.  “Sorry.”

“It’s not _bad_ ,” Keith said, swiping his thumb through the precum beading at the head.  “Just… if you’re holding back, you don’t have to.”

“What?”

Keith rolled his eyes.  “If you’re always quiet, that’s fine, but don’t try to keep it down for my sake.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Yeah, dude,” Keith said, leaning down to suck one of Lance’s testicles into his mouth for a moment.  “Why, do people usually tell you to shut up during sex?”

“Uh, yeah,” Lance said and Keith snapped his gaze back up.

“Seriously?”

“Not in so many words, usually,” Lance said, shifting uncomfortably.  “I’m just kind of a loud person, and sometimes people get annoyed by that. I don’t have any illusions about it.”

Keith made a face.  He had found Lance’s volume levels a little annoying, but that was when Keith was trying to study, not when he was sucking his dick.  “Well, I don’t care,” Keith said, making an instantaneous decision.  “In this context it only inflates my ego, anyway.”

Lance chuckled.  “We don’t need that, do we?”

“Watch it,” Keith warned, baring his teeth just a little and reminding Lance that he was very much at Keith’s mercy right now.  “Besides, I already told you you’ve got to tell me what I’m doing right or wrong.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll tell you. Did you wanna switch though?” Lance offered.

“I’m gonna finish what I started first,” Keith responded, before sinking all the way back down onto Lance’s cock.

Like flipping a switch, Lance let out a loud moan at the motion, his back arching off the sofa a little.  Keith hummed, pleased that he’d listened, and sucked hard around the length.  Lance stuttered out a small string of Spanish swears, his hand fisting tight in Keith’s hair as his cock hit the back of Keith’s throat. As his jaw started to strain, Keith backed off again, suckling at the tip and running his tongue firmly under the head as he used his hand to work the rest of it.  “Oh god… fuck, that’s so good,” Lance groaned, his fingers massaging a little into Keith’s scalp before the perfect flick of Keith’s tongue had him gripping Keith’s hair like his life depended on it.  “ _Yeah_ , just like that…” The sting of Keith’s scalp shot straight between his legs, and if Keith hadn’t been putting his full attention into breaking Lance’s composure, he’d already have a hand there.  “Shitshit _shit,_ I’m gonna come, _fuck_.”

Keith loosed his jaw one more time, taking Lance most of the way into his mouth and hollowing out his cheeks as deeply as he could.  It sounded like all the air in Lance’s lungs left him at once as he twitched, hips unconsciously shoving closer to Keith as he swallowed around him.  Keith did his best to take Lance’s load, but a few stray drops dribbled out the sides of Keith’s mouth.  Once Lance had ridden out the high, Keith pulled off and wiped the edges of his mouth clean, tucking Lance back into his jeans and using his knees to push himself up before sitting on the sofa beside Lance.  His own dick was pulsing in his jeans, but he ignored it as he watched Lance try to collect himself.

“Jesus Christ, Keith, where’d you learn how to suck dick like that?”

“Cosmo,” Keith replied flatly.

Lance blinked a couple times before smirking.  “Me too.”

Keith watched as Lance leaned in for another heated kiss, undoubtedly tasting mostly himself as he licked his way into Keith’s mouth.  While his mouth was occupied, Lance’s hands fell to Keith’s fly, undoing it with surprising dexterity and dipping into his briefs to get a hand around Keith’s hardness.  Keith’s mouth dropped open a little at the contact, forgetting to kiss back when his cock was _finally_ getting some attention of its own.  Lance chuckled, pressing light kisses to the line of Keith’s jaw as he stroked him a few times, earning a few pitched sounds from the back of Keith’s throat.  Lance shifted them so that Keith was leaning back against the arm of the sofa and Lance was bent over him, tugging his jeans down to his thighs for more ease of movement.  Keith let his eyes slip shut as Lance’s breath brushed hot across his painfully hard length, the promise of his mouth hanging wet and heavy and just _barely_ out of reach.

Lance licked at the very tip of Keith’s cock, barely even grazing the surface, but Keith’s hips automatically canted into it, seeking more.  Lance rested a hand low on Keith’s abdomen, holding him in place as he bobbed his head.  Keith couldn’t restrain the single cry that left his lips as Lance swallowed around him, his fist pumping quick around everything not in his mouth.  Keith let his head roll back against the sofa, gripping the edge tight as Lance blew him.  It didn’t take long for Keith to hit the edge.  “Lance—” Keith huffed out in warning, nudging at his shoulder.  Lance pulled off with one last lick to the head, keeping his hand’s pace steady until Keith came across his fingers with a harsh grunt.  Lance plucked a tissue off the coffee table and wiped his hands clean before wadding it up and dropping it beside a forgotten beer bottle.

“That was fun,” Lance said, sitting back up and draping a casual arm across the back of the sofa.  “We should do it again some time.”

Keith huffed out something like a laugh as he pushed himself into a sitting position before tucking himself back inside his pants.  “Oh yeah?”

“I mean, only if you want to, of course,” Lance said, but Keith was already smirking.

“We’ll see,” Keith said.  “You have my number now.”

“Is that permission to use it?”

“It might be.  Don’t make me regret it.”

“I would never,” Lance said, feigning offense as he put a hand over his heart.  Keith patiently ignored the way his heart skipped a beat when he noticed it was the same hand Keith had just jizzed across not two full minutes ago.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” Keith retorted.

“I should go, though,” Lance said, pushing himself off the sofa and glancing around for wherever his shirt had ended up during their romp.  He found it slightly crumpled on the floor beside the sofa and tugged it back over his head.  The barest hint of that blue wave peeked over the hem of Lance’s boxers before he tugged his shirt down, hiding it from Keith’s view.  “Seriously.  We should do that again.”

“I’m not opposed,” Keith said.  He wasn’t quite sure whether he should see Lance back to the door or stay where he was.  The sex was the easy part – it was the rest of human interaction that put Keith out of his depth.

Lance grinned and before Keith knew it, he’d bent over to plant a lingering kiss to Keith’s lips.  “Until next time, then.”

Keith watched in silence as Lance saw himself to the door and left with only a click of the knob falling into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> real talk: this fic is literally just an excuse for me to practice writing sex because it takes me so goddamn long — the proof being that i wrote 14k of this fic in under a week, but then spent almost two trying to write 3k of blowjobs. 
> 
> anyway yeah watch me put way too many feelings into this despite all attempts to keep it simple.


	6. Chapter 6

Weirdly enough, the day after he’d sucked Lance’s dick was exponentially less weird than the day after he’d kissed him at a party.  Keith’s first class of the day was sociology, and when he saw Lance and Pidge walk in together and sit right behind him, Keith nodded in greeting.

“Hey Keith,” Pidge said, dropping their backpack on the desk.  “How’s it going?”

“Good,” Keith said, shifting in his seat so he could see the two of them.  “How about you?”

“I had a test in enviro sci, but I definitely passed, so I’m great,” Pidge said.

“Lance?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m good,” Lance said, leaning forward on his elbows against the desk.  “You work tonight?”

“Five to seven,” Keith replied, pulling his neatly organized notes from his backpack.

“Me too,” Lance replied.  “Do you want to do the homework together between students?”

“Sure,” Keith said easily.

“Pidge, you want in on this study group?”

“Raincheck,” they said.  “I’ve got a paper due in my history class, so I have a date with a caffeine iv.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy,” Keith commented.

“My methods are effective, and that’s all that matters.”

“Aren’t you, like, a sophomore?”

“A sophomore on track to graduate with my bachelor’s less than three semesters from now,” Pidge said.  “So please redirect all snide comments into the time capsule I will open upon graduation from my master’s program at the ripe old age of twenty-three.”

Keith and Lance exchanged a look that was an unspoken agreement never to question Pidge or put them in any situation where Pidge might feel the need to exact any kind of revenge on either of them.

“Good morning, class!” Professor Wimbleton-Smythe breezed into the classroom, as chipper as ever, and dropped a stack of paper on the table at the front of the room.  “It’s a wonderful day to explore the nuances of sexuality, so it’s time for a pop-quiz!”

Pidge’s eyes widened, looking more thrilled at the prospect than they had any right to be.  Lance let out a quiet grumble, rolling his eyes as he shoved his backpack under the desk and sat a single pencil on his desk.  Keith chuckled, turning back front and pulling a pen out of his backpack.

The hour passed without much fanfare, and as Keith shouldered his backpack at the end of class, he caught Lance’s eye.  Lance slid his thumbs underneath the shoulder straps of his backpack and grinned at Keith.  “See you at work, man.”

“Yeah, see ya,” Keith replied.

The weird look Pidge gave as they glanced between Keith and Lance went mostly unnoticed by the other parties. 

 

Keith went home for his break between class and work, reheating some leftovers and stealing away to his room to get some studying done before he had to go to work.  He mostly tuned out the sounds of Shiro puttering around the apartment, cleaning up the kitchen and living room.  Keith’s focus was entirely on the critical theory textbook resting against his knees, trying to parse through jargon-laden nonsense to figure out what the author was trying to _say_.

“Jesus Christ!”

Keith didn’t look up from his textbook as Shiro appeared in his doorway, tossing a balled-up wad of tissue at his head and missing by a foot. It landed innocuously near Keith’s pillow.  “You missed,” Keith noted blandly, flipping a page and scribbling down a note in the margin.

“If you’re gonna jack it in the living room, at least dispose of the evidence, Keith.”

Keith’s gaze snapped to the tissue, heat flooding his face as he realized what it was.  He distinctly remembered the way Lance had lazily wiped Keith’s cum off his hand and dropped the wad of tissue on the coffee table.  Keith had forgotten, however, to clean up the coffee table and throw away the tissue.  But it was fine, so long as Shiro thought it was his.  Which it was, actually.  God, Keith’s own train of thought was too convoluted for him to make sense of.  

“I mean, I’m sure your room gets _so_ stuffy sometimes,” Shiro continued in a sarcastic drawl. “I can’t blame you for wanting a change of scenery once in a while, I just really don’t want to think about whatever it is you do when I’m not here.”

“You finished?” Keith asked sourly.

Shiro looked more amused than disgusted, and he’d carried it all the way to Keith’s room so he couldn’t be that upset by it.  The two of them had been close long enough that their private lives weren’t actually that private, despite all the shit Keith gave him about having to listen to him and Adam go at it in the apartment.  Still, that didn’t mean Shiro wasn’t about to give Keith hell for this slip-up.  “No, but you did, apparently.  Is this what you do while I’m gone on Monday nights?  Sit in the living room, missing my company?”

Keith rolled his eyes, tucking his pen behind his ear.  “Trust me, Shiro, you were the furthest thing from my mind.”

“So you had someone _else_ on your mind? Was he hot?”

“Stop.”

“Sorry, that’s presumptuous. Were _they_ hot?”

“ _Stop_.”

“Stop caring about my best friend’s life? I don’t think so, Keith. You’re stuck with me.”

“Stop making my life a living hell.”

Shiro’s eyes widened and he made a series of offended noises as he slowly backed out of Keith’s room, one hand pressed against his chest. Keith could hear him continue this halfway across he apartment. Once Shiro was out of eyeshot, Keith reached over to discard the tissue properly, before staring long and hard at his inactive phone resting beside his knee.  As he did so, it lit up, and Keith’s heart jumped into his throat for a moment before he recognized the notification as a reminder that he needed to leave for work in 15 minutes.

What had he even been expecting?

 

Keith exchanged a few polite words with Florona as they swapped places in the English room.  There was only one appointment on the schedule for the evening, and it wouldn’t be for about half an hour, so Keith made himself comfortable and readied the paperwork form that he had to fill out to accompany all tutoring sessions.

As he was doing so, a student came in looking for help with an essay.  He assisted her as best he could, reminding her of the sign on the wall that read “We Are NOT An Editing Service”, and she went on her way when Keith’s appointment arrived.  The appointment used the full allotted hour, even lingering a few minutes longer to finish typing up their notes and asking Keith for some clarification.  Keith patiently explained, and when a third student came in, Keith barely even realized it was already seven until the lights in the Spanish lab flicked off.  He wrapped up with his student, encouraging them to come back any time, and quickly packed his bag.  He locked up the English lab, closing the outer door as well, and as he did, he found Lance leaning casually against the wall outside the Language Lab.

“Sorry we didn’t get a chance to study,” Keith said.

“It’s cool dude, I was slammed too,” Lance said.  “My last student only left a minute ago.  What are you doing now?”

“I’ve got to get upstairs,” Keith said.  “Circ desk until ten.”

Lance made a face.  “Gross.”

Keith shrugged.  “Gotta make money somehow.”

“You don’t even get, like, a break? Do you eat?”

“Sometimes I have pretzels at the desk.”

Lance looked unimpressed.

“I really gotta go, Lance,” Keith said.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you,” Lance echoed, remaining where he stood as Keith headed for the stairs.  “Yo, text me if you get mad bored!” Lance shouted after him.  “I’ll entertain you!”

Keith waved him off as he went upstairs.  He took his place at the desk, cracking a textbook in front of him, and promptly zoned the hell out.  He wasn’t sure when the time had gone by, but when his forehead hit the textbook in front of him on the exact same page he’d opened it to, a glance at the clock told him it was almost nine.  Keith stifled a yawn and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

 

**_Lance_ **

_< < ok i don’t even remember the last two hours so im screwed_

_> > dude what the hell  
>> what were you doing?_

_< < i think i just spaced out?_  
_< < i remember like two check-outs_  
 _ << i cant even look at my textbook without wanting to fall asleep_

_> > okok snack time then_   
_ >> u said u got a pretzel stash right?_   
_ >> or chew some gum that always wakes me up_

_< < i forgot my pretzels at home  
<< i guess i’ll just suffer_

_> > dude  
>> dude i so got u_

_< < ??_

 

Not ten minutes passed before Lance shuffled into the library, scanning the surroundings and huddling around a large tupperware container.

“You didn’t have to come down here,” Keith said, his voice echoing in the silent library.  Keith could only see one student within sight range, and he was hunkered over a battered laptop with the biggest pair of headphones Keith had ever seen clamped over his ears. 

Lance’s lips quirked in a smile. “I wasn’t gonna leave you out to dry, buddy,” he said. “Plus Hunk made a shit-ton of food and neither of us have a fridge big enough to hold all these leftovers, so really, this is a selfish journey that I am making in an effort to not be saddled with a dorm room that smells like day-old shrimp.”

Lance sat the bowl on the desk in front of Keith before digging into his sweatpants pocket and pulling out a set of silverware wrapped in a paper towel and setting it on top of the bowl.  As Keith slowly pried up the lid, catching the delicious scent of garlic and seasonings wafting up from the still-warm bowl, Lance grabbed one of the tall stools from under the window and dragged it up to the counter.

“Hunk made this?” Keith asked, surveying the mess of garlic shrimp resting on a bed of brown rice. It smelled amazing, and Keith didn’t hesitate to pluck the fork Lance had brought him out of the paper towel nest.

“Yeah dude, prepare to have your world rocked.”

After the first bite, Keith lifted wide eyes to Lance, his fork hanging in midair.  “Holy shit, I think I owe Hunk my firstborn now.”

Lance tossed his head back, laughing.  “I told you, man.  Le Cordon Bleu doesn’t even _know_ what they’re missing out on, honestly. Fortunately, he can be the world’s greatest up-and-coming engineer _and_ still make the worlds tastiest dinner when he’s done working.  I will mooch off of his culinary generosity for as long as I possibly can.”

“I’ve seen God and she sent me this shrimp,” Keith said, stuffing another forkful of shrimp and rice into his mouth.  He polished off the bowl, listening to Lance chatter about Hunk’s cooking as he did.  “Tell Hunk I am forever in his debt,” Keith told Lance, glancing up to see Lance holding his phone at a strange angle.  He licked garlic sauce off the fork, lifting a suspicious eyebrow at Lance.  “What are you doing?”

“Oh, I sent Hunk a video of your appreciation,” Lance said, his mouth curling up in a grin.  “He says ‘you’re welcome’.”

Keith pushed the empty bowl off to the side, shaking his head at Lance.  “Thank _you_ , too,” he said.  “You really, really didn’t have to do that.”

“I told you, man,” Lance said, tucking one ankle under the opposite knee.  “Purely selfish motives.  This way my dorm room stays smelling like fresh laundry.”

“Dorm rooms inherently smell terrible,” Keith said.

“Not mine, man,” Lance said, grinning.  “Mine’s nice.”

“Then you’re not human,” Keith concluded. 

“Bet you’d be into that, wouldn’t you, Mr. Cryptid-fucker.”

“You come into _my_ library…” Keith began, flicking condensation from his water bottle across the desk at Lance.

“I’m just saying, you’d date Mothman if he asked,” Lance teased.

“First of all, you know nothing about the Mothman,” Keith said.  “Second of all, you know nothing of my _relationship_ with the Mothman.  Third of all, you need to stop making so many assumptions about my life because I’m starting to think you have some kind of fixation on me.  Are you sure you haven’t been stalking me?”

Lance snickered.  “You wish.”

“Again with the assumptions,” Keith volleyed, but he was smiling.

“I only assume things because you’re such a goddamned enigma,” Lance said.  “If you’d actually tell me about yourself, maybe I wouldn’t have to guess.”

“Not all of us can be open books,” Keith said.  “Besides, I don’t know much about you, either, and I don’t make wild and baseless accusations about your personal life.”

“None of my assumptions have been baseless, Keith, so jot that one down,” Lance said.  “And what exactly is it that you want to know about me?”

“You brought it up,” Keith said.  “I’m just pointing out that we don’t know anything about _each other_.”

“Then let’s fix that,” Lance said.  “Twenty questions.”

Keith lifted an eyebrow.  “Don’t you have anything better to do on a Tuesday night than sit in a library with me and play a questions game?”

“Nope,” Lance said, emphasizing the ‘p’ with a pop of his lips.  “It’s cool, we’ll take turns.  You can even go first, because I am magnanimous.”

“I don’t… have a question.”

Lance let out a longsuffering sigh and rearranged his elbows on the desk.  “Okay, then I’ll go first.  What’s your favorite color?”

“Black,” Keith said.

Lance scrunched up his nose.  “Really?”

“It’s versatile.”

“You’re so emo.”

“Fuck off,” Keith said, his lips quirking in an aborted smile.  “What’s yours?”

“Gray,” Lance said.

“That’s just light black.”

“Shut your whore mouth, Keith!” Lance said, barking with laughter.  “It’s more original than _black_!”

“Why is gray your favorite color?”

“It’s my turn!”

Keith rolled his eyes.  “Then ask me two in a row after you answer my question.”

“That’s _not_ how this works,” Lance grumbled, but he answered Keith’s out-of-turn question anyway.  “It’s not just _gray_ , but it’s the color that the sky turns during a thunderstorm.  I used to love watching the storms roll in and reflect the same color on the water that they did in the clouds until the sky just opened up and started pouring.  That’s my favorite color.”

“Oh,” Keith said softly, taking a moment to picture the color Lance was describing.  “That’s cool, actually.”

“Thank you,” Lance said.  “What’s your middle name?”

“Akira.”

“Huh, I was not at all close.  What’s your favorite month of the year?”

“October,” Keith said.  “What did you think my middle name was?”

“I dunno, but something lame like ‘Jonathan’ or ‘Dave’ or something.”

“Dave?”

Lance shrugged.  “I dunno.”

“What’s yours?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Lance said, shaking his finger.  “It’s my turn.”

Keith paused, thinking back over the last few moments and sighing as he conceded that technically ‘what did you think my middle name was’ was, in fact, a question.  “Fine.”

“How many guys have you dated?”

“I told you, dating’s not my thing,” Keith said curtly.

“That’s not really an answer,” Lance said slowly.

“Where are you from?” Keith asked, not even trying to disguise the subject change.

“Matanza, Cuba,” Lance said.  “So, if you haven’t _dated_ anyone, how many others have you… you know…” Lance made a vague gesture with his hands.  “Messed around with?”

Keith lifted a brow, leaning to the side to survey the library over Lance’s shoulder.  The same kid with the giant headphones still sat in the corner, but he looked otherwise occupied.  The rest of the library was empty.  He slid slowly back into his previous position and looked Lance dead in the eye. “One.”

“Only one?”

Keith shrugged.

“Mine was only the second dick you’ve sucked?” Lance asked.

“I’m pretty sure it’s my question,” Keith said evasively.  “Do you miss Cuba?”

“Hell yeah,” Lance nodded.  “We moved to Miami when I was fifteen, but my oldest brother, Marco, still lives in Matanza and I’ve spent a lot of summers with him.  It’s a great city.  Plus, like I said, my uncle lives in Varadero, and the beach there is _gorgeous_.  I could spend the rest of my life on those waves and die a happy man.  Same question as before.”

“That’s kind of personal,” Keith said.

“I mean, if we did talk about doing _that_ again, so really it’s in my best interest to ask about your sexual history,” Lance said.  “But if you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to.”

“Yours was the first,” Keith said, keeping his eyes focused on the library desktop monitor so he didn’t have to look at Lance.

Lance’s jaw dropped.  “ _What?!_ ”

Keith shrugged a single shoulder, not ready to volunteer any more information without making Lance use up more of his questions.  They were four questions apiece in, and Keith was already regretting agreeing to this.  Had he even agreed to it? Or had he just gone along with whatever Lance asked of him?  Maybe Keith was a dumbass.  Was it ten o’clock yet?

“Dude, how could that _possibly_ have been your first time sucking dick?”

Keith rolled his eyes.  “I don’t know, maybe you’re just easily impressed.”

“I mean, yeah, but also _no_!”

“That… doesn’t make any sense.”

“Your dick-sucking abilities don’t make any sense,” Lance retorted.

Keith scoffed.  “It’s my turn, and you asked me two in a row.  Will you move back to Cuba after graduation?”

Lance shrugged.  “Probably not.  The rest of my family is here, and I’m really close with my sisters.  I think I’d miss them more if I was that far away.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Four,” Lance said.  “Marco, Veronica, Luis, and Rachel.  I’m the baby.”

“Your turn.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“None,” Keith said.  “Did you like growing up with a big family?”

Lance nodded eagerly.  “Absolutely.  It’s a crazy environment, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  I miss the volume sometimes.  Being around that many people under one roof makes you get used to a certain level of activity.  Did you like being an only child?”

Keith shrugged.  “It was fine, I guess.  My mom did her best and I won’t complain about that.  Plus I hung out with Shiro’s family a lot, and he’s got a brother.  It was almost like having siblings.”

“No dad?”

“He died when I was little,” Keith said.  “He was a firefighter, and he definitely died doing something he believed in.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Lance said softly.  “Sorry for asking two in a row again.”

Keith blinked.  “Oh, I didn’t even notice.”

The ding of the elevator in the corner pulled Keith’s attention away from Lance, and he watched as one of his coworkers pushed the squeaky returns cart out of the elevator car and head for the desk.  “You’re done at ten, right, Keith?”

“Yeah,” Keith said, glancing at the time.  “Shit, good timing.”

“I set an alert,” his coworker said.  “You can go, I got it.”

“Thanks dude,” Keith said, stuffing his things into his backpack.  He glanced up to Lance, who was tucking the empty leftovers bowl under his arm.  He headed for the exit, his senses telling him that Lance was only a few steps behind.  It wasn’t until they were outside the library building in the crisp, evening air, that Keith spoke up.  “Which dorm building do you live in?”

“Louden Hall,” Lance said, pointing toward the four-story upper-classmen building across the street and down a block.

“I live a couple blocks past that,” Keith said.  “I’ll walk you back.”

“Cool,” Lance said, settling into an easy stride beside Keith.  “Sorry if I overstepped earlier.”

Keith shrugged.  “It’s whatever.  I’m just a private person, so I probably got a little too defensive.”

“No, it was reasonable,” Lance said.  “I really do need to stop assuming things about you.”

Keith chuckled.  “That’d be a start.”

“But I feel like I know you a little better after our game,” Lance said teasingly, nudging Keith’s arm with his elbow as they walked.  “So maybe my future assumptions won’t be so, quote-unquote, ‘baseless’.”

“You’ve probably still got a ways to go,” Keith said.

“Is that a challenge?”

Keith glanced toward Lance, feeling his lips tugging into a smile.  “Maybe.”

Lance grinned.  “I love a good challenge.”  Lance glanced up at his building as they approached.  “Do you want to come up?”

Keith took a beat to gauge Lance’s sincerity – and his intentions.  “Sure.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Sure.”

“Cool,” Lance said, tossing a grin toward Keith and heading up the stairs of the building.  He swiped his student id to open the door, holding it for Keith and leading him up to the fourth floor.  “Hunk lives down the hall from me,” Lance said, gesturing further down the hallway they were standing in.  Lance came to a stop at a room about halfway down the hall and pulled out a key.  “Pidge lives in the opposite wing.  We all lived in the same dorm wing freshman year, and we’ve tried to stay nearby ever since.”

“That’s cool,” Keith said, taking in what he could see of Lance’s room as he opened the door and stepped in.  As promised, the scent of coconut oil and sea-salt wafted gently out to reach Keith in the hallway.  Keith had to admit it _did_ smell very nice and _very_ much like Lance.

“Come on in, man,” Lance said, stepping aside so Keith could come in.  It wasn’t a huge room, but Lance had done what he could with the space.  The twin bed was nestled under the window, topped with a slightly rumpled blue comforter.  The built-in shelves were stacked with textbooks, CD’s, and DVD’s, with one shelf at about eye-level from the bed cleared to make room for a small flat-screen tv.  The desk was stacked with more textbooks and index cards.  There was a denim bean-bag chair half stuffed underneath the bed, looking well-worn but also very comfortable.  “Welcome to Casa de Lance,” his host said, spreading his arms wide as if to welcome Keith into the space.

“Not bad,” Keith said, taking an extra moment to survey the surroundings.  “Kinda smells like gym socks, though, so I feel lied to.”

Lance made a high-pitched, offended noise, taking a seat on his bed as he did so.  “Keith, you liar! My dorm room smells like Coastal Daydreams!”

Keith bit his lip to keep from smiling.  “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lance.”

“That would be the sweet, sea-side aroma of my fabric softener,” Lance said, pouting a bit.

Keith hopped up to sit beside Lance on the mattress, their shoulders bumping together as Keith’s weight shifted the surface enough to sway Lance’s form.  “It’s nice,” Keith admitted.  “It’s definitely cleaner than my dorm room ever was.”

“Your apartment is nice, though,” Lance said.  “Is that all Shiro?”

“It’s mostly Shiro,” Keith confirmed.  “He insists we keep it nice for company.  Oh shit, I was gonna tell you,” Keith said, chuckling a little.  “You remember that tissue you used after—you know,” Keith said.  Lance nodded in affirmation.  “Yeah, I forgot to throw that away and Shiro found it when he was cleaning today.  Told me I need to stop jacking off in the living room.”

Lance cackled, tipping his head back as he laughed.  “Holy shit, that’s hilarious.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d get a kick out of it.”

“Jesus, I wish I could have seen his face,” Lance snorted.  “I love that he just assumes you were jacking it in the living room.”

“He’s been given no reason to assume otherwise,” Keith admitted.  “And I did not find it necessary to make a correction.”

“I would have,” Lance said.  “Ain’t nothing wrong with third base in the living room.”

“I could see people finding something wrong with that,” Keith said, but he was snickering.  “It’s a communal space, after all.”

“It’s a badge of honor, Keith.  Your apartment has been christened.”

“Shiro and Adam christened it a _long_ time ago.  Actually, me walking in on them christening it is the reason I don’t go home before midnight on Sundays.”

“Hey, since we’re kind of on the topic,” Lance said a moment later, shifting slightly to face Keith, tucking one of his knees up under him on the bed.  “We should talk about _us_.”

“Us?” Keith repeated.

“About, you know,” Lance said.  “Doing that again.”

Keith lifted his brows.  “Do you have, like, some sort of scheduling issue you’re trying to get ahead of?”

“No, I mean…” Lance floundered for a moment before shaking his head and starting over.  “You said you weren’t opposed to doing it again, and _I’m_ not opposed to doing it again.  I just want to make sure we’re on the same page about it.”

“Is this because of what I told you earlier, because I definitely told you up front that I was inexperienced.”

“I don’t care if you’re inexperienced, I just don’t want to assume you’re on board for whatever.  I want to talk about it.  The last thing I want to do is take advantage of you in any way due to miscommunication.”

“Well, I’m on board for whatever,” Keith said.  “The only way to gain experience is to start having experiences.”

“You’re really down to just fuck around? No strings?”

“Absolutely.”

“With me?”

Keith rolled his eyes.  “No, with one of the other hot dudes offering to suck my dick.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if you said I had to take a number.”

“Shut up.”

“Seriously, that’s why I’m so mindfucked hearing you’ve only fooled around with one dude besides me.”

“Well, it wasn’t even impressive, so if you’re jealous or something, you can cool it.”

“Not jealous,” Lance said.  “How far’d you get, though?  With the other guy?”

“Second base,” Keith said.  “We were very, very drunk. I’m not even sure I could pick him out of a line-up.”

“Woof.”

Keith snorted.  “Yeah, it was something.”

“Okay, well… as long as we’re on the same page, then,” Lance said, sliding his palms down the length of his thighs. He glanced around the room awkwardly, as if trying to find a new topic of conversation.

“Is it your bedtime?” Keith teased, glancing at the clock on the windowsill beside Lance’s bed.  “You want me to get out of your hair?”

“No, no,” Lance said quickly, and Keith watched as one of Lance’s hands landed on Keith’s knee, as if to stop him from leaving.  “Actually, uh, if you wanted to stay a while longer…”

Lance’s hesitance seemed a little out of character, especially after they’d both expressed their desire to continue this arrangement.  Keith chalked it up to Lance _still_ not trusting him to be on board with this, which was stupid, so Keith decided to clear that up for him the best way he could think of.  Which was to lean in close, capture Lance’s lips with his own, and slowly push Lance back against the mattress until Keith was straddling him on all fours.  Lance’s hesitation seemed to disappear as soon as Keith sucked Lance’s lower lip between both of his own, a faint sound leaving Lance’s lips that had Keith leaning in even more, one of his hands tracing Lance’s jaw as the other one braced Keith’s weight beside Lance’s head. 

Lance’s hands came up to grip at Keith’s hips, fingertips rubbing against the smooth, pale skin above Keith’s waistband.  The encouragement spurred Keith to trail his lips down Lance’s neck; sloppy, open-mouthed kisses that slowly loosened Lance’s vocal chords.  It was a little bit ridiculous that the sound of another man moaning could turn Keith on as much as it did, but he was trying to take it in stride.  If he amped up his efforts just to hear Lance whine a little louder, then he’d be the first to admit he was only human.

Keith trailed his mouth back up Lance’s neck, kissing the soft patch of skin below Lance’s ear.  “How far do you want to go?”

“How far do _you_ want to go?”

“I asked you first,” Keith said, nipping at Lance’s earlobe.

Lance’s hips rutted upwards, groaning faintly.  “I don’t have enough lube to go all the way.”

“Next time, then.”

Lance choked out a faint laugh, one of his fists curling around the button of Keith’s jeans and pulling them flush together.  “The universe knows I am not a patient man and is testing me right now.”

“Not my fault you don’t stay stocked up,” Keith said.  “If we were at my place, you could be balls deep right now.”

Lance brought one arm up to sling across his face.  “God is real and he hates me.”

Keith pushed Lance’s arm up and out of the way, pressing his forehead against the other man’s.  “I’m definitely still gonna make this worth your while.”

“You’re very assertive for a virgin.”

“Virginity is a social construct and means nothing,” Keith said as he tugged Lance’s shirt up and over his head.  He tossed it across the room, paying no attention to its landing as he turned his attention back to the pretty brunet beneath him.  “And as far as being assertive goes – well, one of us has to be.”

“Are you saying I’m not assertive?” Lance asked, quirking a skeptical brow.  “Because I remember kissing the _fuck_ out of you in the library yesterday.”

“I’m saying you’re way too fixated on the fact that I’m not as sexually experienced as you, and I’m trying to show you that this is not an actual issue.”

“I’m not fixated,” Lance grumbled, but Keith was already dipping down and dragging the flat of his tongue across one of Lance’s nipples.  Lance’s argument quickly turned into a pitched moan, one of his hands twisting into Keith’s hair.  “Oh fuck, _Keith_.”

“I think you like that I’m assertive,” Keith said, letting his breath skim across the damp surface of Lance’s chest and watching goosebumps rise along the skin.  “Do you, Lance? Do you like it when I’m calling the shots?”

“It makes my part pretty goddamn easy,” Lance said, but the cocky tone he seemed to be going for was slightly dampened by the way he was squirming and swearing breathlessly under Keith’s touch.  Keith bit down on the soft skin just below Lance’s left nipple, eliciting a surprised gasp from the other man.

“Answer the question, Lance.”

Lance shuddered, nodding instantly.  “I like it.”

Keith smirked, laving his tongue over the little red mark he’d left.

“I knew you were fuckin’ bitey,” Lance said.

“You also said you liked it.”

“I’m right twice, sue me.”

Keith bit down on the same spot, sucking the skin between his teeth for a few seconds before laving his tongue over the surface to soothe the bite.  Lance whined, one of his knees hitching up beside Keith’s hip and his fingers grasping for purchase in Keith’s t-shirt.  “ _Fuck_ , why do you still have your shirt on, you asshole?”

“I’ve been busy,” Keith murmured, licking the bite mark with short, kittenish licks.  “Why, you want me to stop?”

Lance groaned, shoving up the hem of Keith’s t-shirt.  “No.”

Keith sat back abruptly and could feel Lance’s erection rub against the curve of his ass; the gray sweatpants Lance was wearing left absolutely nothing to the imagination.  Keith watched Lance’s jaw fall open at the contact and smirked as he ground down a bit harder.  “You sure?”

“Oh my god, Keith, please just fucking touch me.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Keith said, stripping his shirt over his head and dropping it on Lance’s face.  

As Lance took a moment to brush away the offending fabric, Keith lowered himself until his face was only a few inches from Lance’s.  As soon as Lance tossed Keith’s shirt away, Keith dipped in to steal a kiss from Lance’s lips.  Lance hummed, sounding pleased as he draped one of his arms around the back of Keith’s neck.  He used his newfound leverage to drag Keith closer, deepening their kiss into a filthy drag of tongues in the space between their mouths.

The vibration of Keith’s phone ringing distracted them from each other, but Keith did his level best to ignore it.  After a few rings, Lance pulled back, panting slightly.  “You gonna get that?”

“It’s just Shiro,” Keith said, pressing his mouth back to Lance’s skin like it was physically impossible to stop himself.

“What if it’s an emergency?”

“It’s not,” Keith said, but he took just enough time to sit back and pull the now dormant phone out of his back pocket.  He swiped at the screen, glancing at the text previews of the messages he’d been ignoring for a good half hour.  “See, he’s just nosy,” Keith said, dropping the phone to the carpet beside the bed and leaning back in towards Lance.  “No one’s dying.”

“Is he gonna be suspicious, though?” Lance asked.  “Won’t he wonder where you are?”

Keith shook his head.  “I stay late at work all the time.  Do you want me to leave?”

“Fuck no,” Lance said, his fingers tightening around the waistband of Keith’s jeans.  “I just want to make sure we’re good.”

“We’re good,” Keith said.  “I promise.”

“Okay,” Lance said, finally allowing Keith to rejoin their lips.  Lance’s hands slid along Keith’s waist until they met, undoing his fly and shoving the jeans as far down as he could without separating their mouths, boxers catching and sliding away with them.  Lance’s hand wrapped firmly around Keith’s length, stroking quickly and earning a broken noise from the back of Keith’s throat.  Lance swallowed the sound eagerly, using his free hand to come up and fist in the hair at the nape of Keith’s neck.  Keith rutted his hips down into the warm friction of Keith’s hand, their kiss becoming sloppier and less restrained as Keith lost himself to the sensation. 

One of Keith’s hands slipped under the elastic waistband of Lance’s sweats, fumbling to reciprocate.  He struggled for a moment before sitting back, huffing in frustration as his movement dislodged the nice rhythm they’d been building up, and yanked Lance’s sweatpants down over his hips.  Lance laughed, bending his knees to help Keith in his efforts to get the garment that had so greatly offended him as far away from Lance’s body as possible, and then commanded Keith to get rid of his own.  Now naked and kneeling between the bent legs of a very also naked Lance, Keith had a dozen options running through his mind but no quick decision as to which one to choose.  His indecision must have shown on his face, because Lance smirked, wiggling his hips as he settled into a better position against the pillows.  Keith caught another glimpse of that blue tattoo – definitely a cresting wave, but in the shape of a roaring lion.  Then Lance was shifting again, distracting Keith from his observations.  “Paint me like one of your French girls, Keith.”

Keith shook his head, chuckling faintly.  “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know,” Lance said, grinning unabashedly and pushing himself into a sitting position.  He grabbed a bottle out of his nightstand – a nearly empty bottle of lube – and pulled Keith into his lap, winding a bronze arm around Keith’s waist as he leaned up to pepper soft kisses along Keith’s jaw.  Lance rolled his hips up, his cock brushing against Keith’s with a tantalizing friction.  Keith glanced down between them, feeling a little overwhelmed at the sight of a naked Lance grinding up against him.  He pressed closer, arms winding around Lance’s neck, pulling them flush together and getting a wanton gasp from Lance in return. 

Lance dribbled the bit of lube left in the bottle across Keith’s cock before tossing the empty container across the room toward the bin beside his desk.  His fingers wrapped firmly around Keith, the glide smooth and easy as he twisted his wrist, falling into an easy rhythm of jerking Keith off.  After a few moment, Lance wiped a bit of the excess lube across his own erection, taking the both of them in a single hand and resuming his previous motions.  Keith gasped, the warm, velvety slide of Lance’s cock pressed against his prompting a shiver down his spine.  He tugged at the short hair at the base of Lance’s neck, his hips rocking as he tried to both match Lance’s rhythm and encourage him to speed up.  He pressed kisses where he could reach, along the shell of Lance’s ear and the edge of his jaw, almost keeping time with the melodic, pleasured sounds falling from Lance’s lips. 

“Mm, Keith,” Lance breathed, pressing an open mouthed kiss against Keith’s adam’s apple.  “ _Fuck_ , Keith, I want to fuck you so bad.”

Keith swallowed hard, letting his gaze run over the spectacle of Lance with his head tipped back, eyes closed, and his hand working even faster between them.  “Yeah,” Keith agreed, his voice feeling like sandpaper coming up his throat.  “I want you to fuck me, too.”

“Next time,” Lance panted, opening his eyes to meet Keith’s gaze, his blue eyes blown dark with arousal.  “Will you let me fuck you next time?”

Keith nodded eagerly, one of his hands sliding down Lance’s chest to rest flat against his pectoral.  “Yeah, yes, please, Lance.” Keith’s back arched with a particularly good swirl of Lance’s wrist, hips bucking into Lance’s hand in search of more.  “Oh _god_ , do that again.”

Lance did, tugging oh-so-wonderfully at the crown of their cocks with a wave of pleasure, heat building in Keith’s gut and pulling at his balls as he crept closer to his climax.  “I’m gonna come,” Keith gasped, resting his forehead in the crook of Lance’s shoulder.  “Fuck—”

“Please come,” Lance encouraged, the hand still wound around Keith’s hips sliding down to grab a handful of Keith’s ass.  “C’mon, Keith.” The motion pushed them even closer together and sent Keith spiraling over the edge.  He gasped as his vision went white, his forehead pressing even harder against Lance’s shoulder.  Lance didn’t stop moving, working Keith through it with everything he had.  Keith heard the hitch in Lance’s breath moments later, felt the way his shoulders tensed as he came. 

Lance slumped back, pulling Keith to fall with him against the pillow as he didn’t remove the hand that was on Keith’s ass until they were both horizonal against the mattress.  They lay there a few moments, remembering how to breathe as their chests heaved in the close space between their bodies.  Keith’s gaze flicked over Lance’s his half-lidded blue eyes, across the ski-jump nose littered with freckles, and down to the plump and bite-reddened lips that were curling upwards in satisfaction. 

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Lance drawled, his eyes opening a bit further as he responded.

“Thanks.”

“For?”

“The orgasm.”

Lance snorted, rolling onto his back.  “I don’t think I’ve ever been thanked for that before.”

“Well, it was nice.”

“God, are you that uncomfortable? We’ve got to work on your post-coital small talk.”

“I was trying to be polite.”

Lance rolled his eyes, turning his head to look back to Keith.  “Happy to help.”

Keith propped himself up on one elbow.  “I really do want you to fuck me next time.”

“I’ll make sure to buy more lube then,” Lance said.  “And we’re gonna need to figure out a time when we’ve got _lots_ of time because its your first time and we’re not gonna half ass that.”

“Are you still making this a big deal?”

“It _is_ a big deal,” Lance said.  “I can’t wait to tear that ass up, but not _literally_.”

Keith laughed, snorting a little and drawing a delighted smile out of Lance.  “Fine, we’ll figure it out.  I should probably text Shiro back now,” Keith said, rolling over and leaning off the bed to reach his phone.  Lance’s hand shot out to grab Keith’s thigh, keeping him from falling off the bed.   Keith managed to grab the phone and push himself safely back onto the bed.

“Think he’ll buy that you worked late?”

Keith nodded.  “He’s very gullible.”

“I’d be too afraid to lie to him,” Lance said.  “He could rip a phone book in half while looking disapprovingly at me.”

“He could not,” Keith said, shooting off a placating text that said he would be heading home shortly.  “And he’d be too ashamed that he bought whatever horseshit he believed to pin it on you.”

“I’d let him bench press me,” Lance said honestly.

“Do you have a crush on my roommate?” Keith smirked, rolling out of bed to put his pants back on.

“Nah, but I have eyes and that boy is _fine_ ,” Lance said, sitting up and wiping his hands on a towel hanging by the foot of his bed.  “Besides, I think I definitely like the hand I’m currently working with much better.”

Keith didn’t respond to that as he finished redressing and made sure he had his phone and keys with him.  Once he was sure he was ready to go, he glanced toward Lance, still lounging naked on the bed.  Some unfamiliar part of Keith’s brain, hidden in a far recess of his mind, wanted to crawl back in beside him.  “I’ll text you,” Keith said, immediately hating that it sounded clichéd.

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lance said, casting his infectious grin at Keith.  And if Keith walked home grinning like a moron – well at least he had no witnesses.


	8. Chapter 8

Wednesday was a reading day, and like pretty much any day they didn’t have classes, Keith woke up to the sound of Matt Holt invading his apartment.  Keith groaned and rolled over, pulling his pillow over his head.  Matt sounded to be making himself at home in the kitchen, and when the beep of the Bluetooth speaker connecting to an audio source sounded, Keith knew he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep today.

Keith stumbled out to the kitchen and pulled the orange juice from the fridge.  Matt was scrambling a large bowl of eggs, shaggy blond head bouncing in time to the beat of a Fall Out Boy song.  He grinned lazily at Keith, though Keith couldn’t tell if there was a nod of greeting between bops to the beat.

“What are you making?”

“Scrambled eggs.”

Keith glanced at the clock on the wall above the window.  “It’s twelve-thirty.”

“You’re the one who just woke up.”

“Touché.”  Keith took a swig of orange juice right out of the carton.  “Where’s Shiro?”

Matt shrugged, pouring the eggs into the very pan he’d woken Keith up trying to extricate from the cupboard.  “Gym, probably?”

Keith nodded, jumping up to sit perched on the counter with his juice and watch Matt cook.  “You guys got something planned today?”

“Nah, probably just chill,” Matt said.

“Nice.”

“You?”

Keith shook his head.  “Homework, probably.”

“You were out pretty late last night,” Matt said.

Keith lifted a brow.  “I was at work.”

“Sure you were.”

Keith’s other brow joined its twin in the middle of his forehead.  “That’s a pretty bold accusation, Holt.”

“It was practically written across your face when you came in the door last night.” 

“You saw me for thirty seconds last night.”

“You still seemed like you were in an uncharacteristically good mood.”  Matt’s hazel eyes flicked up from the half-cooked eggs to meet Keith’s gaze.  “I’m not Shiro, dude.  I’m not gonna give you shit if you’re seeing someone.”

“I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Sleeping with, then.”

Keith was silent.

“One night stands aren’t a crime, Keith.”

“It wasn’t a one night stand,” Keith defended, and then immediately wished he hadn’t said anything.

“But you are getting laid.”  It wasn’t a question.

“It’s not serious.”

“Didn’t say it was.”

“Don’t tell Shiro.”

Matt scoffed.  “I won’t tell that bitch shit.”

“Don’t tell anyone, actually,” Keith said, dragging his gaze down to his bare feet, heels tapping against the cupboard beneath him.

“Secret’s safe with me,” Matt said.  He was quiet for a long moment, sprinkling cheese over the eggs and then dividing them up onto two plates.  He handed one to Keith.  “You never really struck me as a one night stand kind of guy anyway.”

“We’re just friends,” Keith felt compelled to clarify.  “Who suck each other’s dicks.”

“Sometimes those are the best friends to have,” Matt said, and if Keith didn’t think about it too hard it _almost_ sounded sage.  “Do I know him?”

Keith shrugged.  “I’m not telling you who he is either way.”

“Fair enough.”

“Seriously, please don’t tell anyone.”

“I got you, Keith,” Matt said, nodding seriously.  “I know sometimes Shiro’s overbearing about shit.”

“He means well.”

“Of course,” Matt said.  “Doesn’t mean you want him to give you the safe sex talk.”

“Exactly.”

They ate in silence for a few more minutes.

“Mario Kart?”

“Fuck yeah, dude.  I call Luigi.”

“Why?”

Rather than responding, Matt just winked and plopped down on the sofa, tossing one of the Wii controllers Keith’s way.  After a few rounds, Shiro and Adam arrived, back from the gym.  They battled for the shower before joining Matt and Keith on the couch, breaking out the guacamole Matt had apparently brought with him when he’d arrived that morning.

It wasn’t until Keith’s phone sounded and he saw the alert for an event in fifteen minutes that he remembered his promise to Allura to work the events fair.  As soon as he saw it, he was flying off the sofa and into his room.  “Rain check on the next round,” Keith said.  “Forgot I promised Allura I’d work the fair.  We can break our tie tonight?”

“Sounds good to me,” Matt said.  “You need a ride?”

“Do you mind?”

“I’m supposed to pick Pidge up anyway,” Matt said, relinquishing his game controller to Adam.  “It’s on the way.”

“Thanks dude,” Keith said.  “I just need to grab my bag.”

“I’ll meet you at the car!” Matt called as Keith dashed into his room. He stuffed one of his folders into his backpack and zipped it quickly.  With a cursory glance out the window, Keith grabbed his favorite sweatshirt out of his closet and tossed it on, leaving the zipper dangling open. His shoes were half-hidden under the bed, but he quickly retrieved it and shoved them on so he could run out the door and meet Matt in the parking lot.

Matt was just pulling the car to the curb when Keith pushed his way out the front door of the apartment building. He reached across to open the door from the inside, because Matt’s huge Buick was older than he was and the outside handle had stopped working years ago. Once Keith was in the car, the drive wasn’t long. Campus was only a few blocks away, and Matt pulled up as close as he could get to the student union without straight up driving across the lawn.  Keith thanked Matt for the ride and jogged over toward the large loop of folding tables that had been set up in the concourse.  The events fair was in full swing by now – eleven to five was a good chunk of the day, but there were food trucks lining the stretch of pavement fifty yards from the loop of tables, and nothing drew in students like the promise of food that wasn’t from the cafeteria.  Keith easily spied the Language Lab table, occupied only by Allura, and immediately felt guilty.

“Sorry Allura.”

Allura glanced his way, looking confused.  “What for?”

“Am I not late?”

Allura smirked, glancing at her wrist-watch.  “You’re technically early,” she said.  “Three minutes to spare.”

“Oh.  Why are you alone, then?”

“Scheduling issues,” Allura replied.  “I moved one of the Spanish tutors from the morning shift to now so you wouldn’t be alone.  I know answering Spanish questions isn’t quite your forte.”

Keith chuckled, taking a seat in the empty folding chair behind the table.  “Thanks.  Who else is working?”

“Hey Keith! Hey Princess!”

“Asked and answered,” Keith mumbled, not sure if he’d even said it loud enough for Allura to hear. 

Lance approached with his backpack slung over one shoulder, followed closely by a young woman in a Miami Dolphins t-shirt who looked like his carbon copy.  Lance grinned, dropping his backpack to the ground beside the table.  “How’s it going?”

“Very well!” Allura said.  “I’ve talked to many students who seemed very interested in our services.  I’ve also talked to a few who expressed interest in joining our tutor roster next semester, which is wonderful.”

“Awesome,” Lance said.

“Well, since you’re both here, I’ll be on my way,” Allura said, gathering up the clipboard in front of her.  “Have a good evening, gentlemen.  When you’ve finished, just leave the information sheet on my desk, please.”

“Will do,” Keith said.

Allura took off across the lawn and Lance quickly dropped himself into the seat she’d vacated.  The girl behind him leaned a hip against the edge of the table, her piercing blue gaze surveying Keith for a long moment.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your coworker, Leandro?”

“Yeah, that’s Keith,” Lance said easily, glancing between the girl and Keith.  “Keith, this is my sister, Rachel.”

“Oh, is this your _rival_?” Rachel drawled, crossing her arms over her chest.  She looked Keith over once more with a sly grin curling across her face.  “Charmed, I’m sure.”

“We’re not rivals anymore,” Lance said with a sniff.  “We’re friends.”

_With benefits_ , Keith thought.  The way Rachel quirked her brow put a sinking feeling in Keith’s stomach that she was thinking the same thing.

“Since when?”

“Since none of your damn business, Chel.”

Rachel rolled her eyes.  “Sorry for taking interest in my baby brother’s life.”

“We’re twins!”

“ _Mi peque_ _ño hermanito_.”

“By twenty-seven minutes!”

“Aww, Lancito, it’s cute that you still try to use that argument.  It’s been twenty-two years, and you’re not catching up any faster.”  Rachel paused as a student approached to ask Keith if she could have a brochure.

Keith glanced between the two of them as the student left the table.  “I’m very glad I don’t have siblings.”

Lance and Rachel immediately burst into laughter.  Keith pursed his lips to keep from joining suit, but Lance clapped a hand on his shoulder.  “You have a Shiro, that’s close enough.”

“Shiro?” Rachel repeated, her expression perking immediately.  “Like, Takashi Shirogane?  You know him?”

“They’re roommates,” Lance jumped in.

“Oh my god, they were roommates,” Rachel whispered reverently.

Keith rolled his eyes.

“What’s he like in real life?” Rachel asked, and Keith assumed she was jumping back on to the Shiro topic.  “He’s the TA in my biology class and he’s, like, the _pinnacle_ of human existence.  He is beautiful and terrifying.”

“He’s taken,” Keith said awkwardly.

“Oh, I know; I didn’t mean it like that,” Rachel said quickly.  “I just want to be friends with him.  He’s lined up to TA two of my classes next semester, so if I can get a rapport going now, I’ll have those classes on lock.”

“Oh, in that case, just don’t be intimidated by him,” Keith said.  “He counts on his students being either scared of him or in love with him—”

“Or both,” Lance said.

“Or both,” Keith agreed.  “So if you just treat him like a person, then he’s super easy to get to know.  He likes football and cries when he watches the Sound of Music, so he’s definitely got flaws.”

“Sweet,” Rachel grinned.  “Thanks for the tip.”  She leaned over to punch her brother on the shoulder.  “Keith is cool, you should have introduced us sooner.”

“Why are you acting surprised that my friends are cool?”

“Because they’re friends with you,” Rachel sassed.

Lance squawked indignantly.  “ _Excuse me_?!”

Rachel simply laughed and pushed herself off the table, flipping her long curls over her shoulder as she did.  “I’ll be back, baby brother,” she promised.  “I’m going to peruse the other booths.”

“Bring me back something cool,” Lance called after her.  “If you see Hunk, tell him to come visit me!”

Rachel waved a hand in acknowledgement without turning around, heading for the opposite end of the loop.  Lance settled back in his chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him.  “Sisters,” he said, shaking his head in mock derision.  “You’re lucky, Keith.”

Keith shrugged, turning his head to eye Lance from the side.  “She seems cool.”

“She is,” Lance confirmed.  “Except for when she’s being a little shit, which is always.”

Keith chuckled.  “Do you feel that way about all your siblings?”

“Most definitely,” Lance said.  “But Chel takes it to the extreme.”

“You’re pretty extreme,” Keith said, flicking Lance’s elbow.  “Guess she learned from the best.”

Lance laughed, absently rubbing the spot where Keith’s fingers had stung his skin.  “We both learned it from our brother Marco, and now we take our revenge on his years of oldest-brother-torment by taking his kids rad places and stuffing them full of sugar right before we drop them off at home.”

“That’s pretty evil.”

“Or maybe I’m the best uncle ever.”

“Both.”

Lance’s face split wide with a grin.  “I’ve always been partial to both.”

 

* * *

 

 

The longer Keith sat at the booth with Lance, the more he realized just how _popular_ Lance was.  He kept a running conversation with Keith, his attention always moving right back to his booth mate after every passerby continued on their way, but that fact only emphasized the way Lance _kept being interrupted._ For every person who stopped by to ask a question about the Language Lab, ten more stopped just to say hi to Lance.  Some were students, briefly chatting with Lance in Spanish; some just seemed to be friends of Lance’s, stopping for a fist-bump or some wild handshake; and some were girls.

A lot were girls, actually.

Lance’s smile ratcheted up to a thousand watts every time a pretty girl stopped in front of their booth and flipped her hair over her shoulder. Keith knew that Lance was a friendly person – knew that he was attractive and charismatic and a serial flirt – but knowing it and seeing it were two different things.  It was an effort for Keith to keep from rolling his eyes every time one of the girls giggled at something barely funny that came out of Lance’s mouth. Keith didn’t know if Lance knew these girls or not, but the way Lance flirted right back indicated that it didn’t matter.

It shouldn’t have pissed him off.

Sometime around five, the booths around them began cleaning up.  It wasn’t terribly involved – just pulling down the banner Allura had made for the front of the table and piling up the brochures and the information sheet to leave on Allura’s desk.  As they were finishing up, a trio of young women approached Lance, shrouded in a cloud of perfume and high-pitched tittering.  Lance gave them his attention willingly, because Lance was _nice_ like that, but Keith had suffered through three hours of the same and he was _done_.  “I’ll take this stuff to Allura’s,” Keith muttered, more of a perfunctory statement than anything, and quickly gathered up the remains of their booth to take inside.

The Language Lab was locked up when Keith arrived, but he had a key to the outer door, so getting to Allura’s desk was no problem.  He skipped turning on the overhead lights, instead using the ambient light from the open doorway to set the banner nicely against the wall behind her desk and leave the info sheet on her keyboard where she could easily find it.  As he turned to go, Lance appeared in the doorway, looking winded.

“Yo, there you are,” Lance said.  “I wasn’t gonna make you walk over here alone, dude.”

Keith shrugged.  “It’s not a big deal.  You were busy.”

Lance made a face, brushing off the sentiment with a shake of his head.  “Nah, they’re in my Anthro I class.  I barely even know them.”

Keith didn’t respond to that because what popped into his head was not kind.

“Dude, you okay?”

“Fine,” Keith said.

“Is something wrong?”

“Nope,” Keith said, approaching the door and waiting for Lance to move out of the way.  He didn’t, and as Keith approached even seemed to spread out and take up even more of the doorway, his arms spread across the length of the frame.  Keith crossed his arms in front of him, cocking a hip and leveling Lance with a flat gaze.  “Did you need something?”

Lance shook his head, staring innocently at Keith.  “Nope.”

“Can I leave, then?”

“Sure.”

“… Are you gonna move?”

A playful grin flickered across Lance’s face.  “Make me.”

Keith kept his expression steely, standing stock still eight inches away from Lance.  Lance didn’t waver an inch.  He took a step forward, arms still folded across his chest.  “Make you?”

“That’s what I said.”

Keith leaned in slow, tilting his head and parting his lips ever so slightly.  Lance’s smile widened, visibly leaning forward to meet Keith’s lips.  At the last second, instead of meeting Lance’s kiss, Keith ducked and slid through the space between Lance’s arm and the doorframe, turning on the other side of the doorway to watch Lance stumble forward and meet only air.  He smirked, watching Lance’s stunned expression turn to see Keith standing outside the Language Lab.

“Betrayal!”

“You said make you,” Keith said.  “Did you have something else in mind?”

“Honestly? Yeah.”

“Hm, sucks for you.”

Lance gaped for a moment, looking half-astonished, half-amused.  _God, he’s adorable_ , Keith thought, before his willpower betrayed him and he lunged forward to kiss the stunned expression off his handsome face.

“So feisty,” Lance mumbled, smiling against Keith’s lips.  “You’re sexy when you’re pissed off.”

“Who said I was pissed off?” Keith asked, nipping hard at Lance’s lower lip. He ignored the flutter in his stomach at Lance calling him ‘sexy’.

“Lucky guess,” Lance responded, sliding his fingers into Keith’s beltloops to pull him further into the lab.  He kicked the door shut behind them, closing the two of them in the dark lab.  Keith shifted, bringing one of his hands up to twist in the short hair at the back of Lance’s head as he pressed their lips back together.

One of Lance’s hands slipped under the hem of Keith’s shirt, fingertips kneading circles in the skin along his side.  As irritated as Keith had been only moments before, it melted away with every shift of Lance’s lips against his own.  Keith pressed against Lance hungrily, unwilling or unable to stop himself from devouring the other man’s mouth like it was his last meal.  Lance hummed pleasantly, bringing the hand that wasn’t exploring Keith’s ribcage up to cup the side of Keith’s face.  It was a tender gesture that hitched the breath in Keith’s lungs and set his skin to tingling, spreading from the point of contact to light his whole body on fire.  His thumb brushed gently over Keith’s cheek, and the feeling welling in Keith’s chest was foreign enough that he couldn’t put a name to it.

He didn’t want to put a name to it.

Keith pressed Lance back against the door, surging up to kiss Lance more fiercely.  He licked his way deeper, tracing the roof of Lance’s mouth with his tongue before drawing back to nip at Lance’s lips – less playful, more heated.  Anything to erase the tenderness of moments before.

Keith wrapped one of his hands around Lance’s wrist and pulled it away from his face, moving it down until Lance had a solid handful of Keith’s ass instead.  Lance took the encouragement a step further, lifting Keith off the ground and pressing him back against the door.  Keith moaned low in his throat, wrapping his legs around Lance’s hips to show how enthusiastic he was about this new development.

“God, this is so hot,” Lance muttered between kisses, not drawing any further away from Keith’s skin than he absolutely had to.  “Allura would kill us if she knew what we were doing.”

“Please don’t talk about our boss right now,” Keith said, tipping his head back to let Lance pepper kisses down the length of his neck.

“What do you think she’d say if she knew I’d been thinking about spreading you out across her desk all afternoon?” Lance whispered, his breath hot against Keith’s skin.  “If she knew I was banking on the office being empty so that I could get you off right here, with only the excuse of dropping off the event stuff to justify it if someone caught us?”

A shiver ran down Keith’s spine at the idea of Lance having thought about this beforehand.  About the idea of Lance flirting with all those girls earlier while he was _actually_ thinking about getting Keith alone in a dark office.  About getting _caught_ with his legs wrapped around Lance’s waist.  He was glad Lance was already holding him up off the ground, because Keith was fairly sure his knees would have given out otherwise.

“I’m not letting you fuck me on Allura’s desk,” Keith said, his voice coming out stronger than he felt.

“Nah, but I can still suck you off right here,” Lance’s voice was gravel against Keith’s ear, his hand silk as it skated further up Keith’s side, tracing foreign shapes into the skin beneath Keith’s t-shirt. “How hard will it be for you to keep a straight face at work if all you can remember is me on my knees, ten feet from your desk?”

“Big talk,” Keith said, rolling his hips against Lance’s before unwinding his legs and setting his feet back on the ground. He pretended his heart wasn’t thudding against his ribcage like an amateur drummer. “Assuming this will be that memorable.”

“Oh sweetheart, I’ll make it memorable,” Lance said, biting the lobe of Keith’s ear before releasing his grip and sliding down to his knees.  Keith couldn’t stop the intake of breath as Lance rucked up the hem of his shirt even further, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses from Keith’s naval down his happy trail. The shirt fell a bit as Lance released it in favor of getting Keith’s belt open and his fly undone.  Keith swallowed, the darkness obscuring the way Lance’s warm mouth was ghosting across the thin fabric of his underwear.  He took his time teasing Keith into full hardness as if he hadn’t been there since the moment Lance had confessed to premeditating this encounter.

“Oh my god, just get on with it.”

“Impatient,” Lance hummed. 

“I’ve been hard for a _year_.”

“You should see a doctor.”

“Fuck you.”

“Sorry, I’m busy tonight.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I think Keith Jr. disagrees.”

“Do _not_ call it that.”

Lance gave him a grin that Keith could mostly tell was a grin by the flash of white in the darkness before it disappeared and warm, wet heat sank down over Keith’s cock.  Keith bit back a groan, letting his head thunk back against the door as Lance worked his magic, bobbing his head down until his nose was nearly buried in the thick, dark hair at the base of Keith’s dick before slowly sliding back with a filthy slurping noise.  Keith had imagined getting head in a semi-public space before, but he had never imagined he would get blown outside the room he worked with.  He hadn’t expected it would be this much of a turn-on.

Lance pulled his mouth off of Keith with a lewd _pop_ , echoing in the dark office.  He wrapped his hand around the base of Keith’s dick, stroking up and down as he licked around the head like a lollipop.  “Mm. You know, I never liked swallowing, but you don’t taste half-bad.”

“You don’t have to swallow,” Keith muttered, absently stroking his fingers through the hair on top of Lance’s hair.  “I’m not gonna last, anyway,” Keith said.

“It’s easier clean-up,” Lance said, licking up the side of Keith’s cock as he kept his fingers gliding up and down Keith’s full length.  “I don’t mind.”

Lance closed his lips around Keith again, hollowing his cheeks and sliding his tongue along the underside.  “Lance,” Keith panted, his fingers tightening a bit before he consciously made the effort to loosen them, smoothing out the soft locks in apology.  “Lance, _fuck_ , Lance—"

Lance groaned in response, the vibration shaking Keith to his very core.  He sucked hard, one of his hands pressing firmly against Keith’s hip to keep him in place, and Keith came apart with a shaking gasp, one of his hands flying up to cover his own mouth.  As promised, Lance swallowed it all, licking gently at the drops that escaped his lips before tucking Keith back into his underwear and redoing his fly.

“Your turn,” Keith said, wiping at the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I’m, uh, good actually,” Lance said sheepishly, and as Keith glanced down, he could see that Lance holding himself in his own hand, dripping with semen.

“Oh shit.”  Keith reached over to flick the light on, glancing around the office for something Lance could clean up with.  Before he could find a reasonable solution, Lance sighed and wiped his hand on the hem of his shirt.  “Dude!”

Lance shrugged.  “Not the first time I’ve walked across campus with visible spunk on my shirt.”

“Here,” Keith said, stripping out of his sweatshirt and handing it to Lance.  “Just, like, fold your shirt up and wear this.”

“You sure?”

Keith nodded.  “Better than getting that shit everywhere.”

“Thanks,” Lance said, quickly stripping out of his t-shirt and shrugging into Keith’s sweatshirt.  Keith kind of regretted turning the light on as he watched Lance’s bare chest narrow to a bronze V between the zipper of Keith’s favorite sweatshirt.  Lance looked good in burgundy.  “I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Whenever,” Keith said lightly.  “I gotta get going.”

“Did I make you late for something?” Lance asked, his brow suddenly furrowing with concern.

“No, no,” Keith said.  “I just promised Matt I’d break our Mario Kart tie when I got done with the fair.”

“Ahh,” Lance said, his face relaxing into a smile.  “Can’t miss that.  I should probably go find my sister, actually.  We’re supposed to meet our parents for dinner tonight.”

“You mean you’re still hungry?” Keith teased, his hand on the doorknob to let them out of the office.

Lance laughed.  “I’ll just tell them I had dessert first.”


	9. Chapter 9

**_From: Lance_ **

_Thursday 6:53pm_

_> > yo was yesterday too much?_

_< < what do you mean_

_> > like… cornering you in the office  
>> was that too far?_

_< < i definitely could have walked away if i wasn’t into it_

_> > still_

_< < it was fine_

_> > "fine”_

_< < what do you want me to say lance_  
_< < i was into it, obviously_  
_ << i came in like five minutes_

_> > alright i just  
>> wanted to make sure_

_< < how was dinner with your family?_

_> > good!_  
_ >> upside: got free chicken tendies_  
_ >> downside: rachel recognized ur sweatshirt_  
_ >> i owe her laundry for a month for not saying anything in front of our parents_

_< < do you think she knows?_

_> > idk maybe _  
_ >> but she won’t say anything_  
_ >> she probably thinks we’re dancing around each other_  
_ >> doubt she’d jump right to fwb_  
_ >> she likes to give ppl the benefit of the doubt_

_< < if it makes u feel any better matt went straight there  
<< apparently I had “got laid” written all over my face last night_

_> > lmfao cute_

_< < so much for keeping this a secret i guess_

_> > sometimes its easier to keep secrets when u have some1 who knows_

_Thursday 11:33pm_

_> > [attachment: one image]  
>> yo this chip looks like pidge_

_< < oh my god it does_

_> > THANK U  
>> THEY SAID I WAS CRAZY_

_< < well you are_  
_ << but it does kind of look like them_  
_ << the pointy parts are their flippy hair_

 _> > I KNEW U WOULD HAVE MY BACK KEITH_  
_ >> [attachment: one image]_  
_ >> this one looks like ur mullet_

_< < i take it back you’re dead to me_

_> > KEITH NO_

_Friday 1:48pm_

_> > YO FREE BAGELS IN THE DIVERSITY CENTER  
>> YOU WANT ONE?_

_< < yes please_

_> > SWEET OR SAVORY?_

_< < surprise me_

_Friday 8:43pm_

_> > nudes b4 9pm: tacky or acceptable?_

_< < are you about to send me a nude because I s2g_

_> > just answer the question_

_< < as long as its dark out ur good_

_> > ooh valid take  
>> follow up question:_

_< < give it at least another fifteen man_

_> > oh_  
_ >> that wasn’t what I was gonna ask_  
_ >> but i know unsolicited dick pics r tacky so_  
_ >> i’m asking first_

_< < so you ARE about to send me a nude_

_> > only if you say yes!!_

_< < do i have to send one back?_

_> > u don’t HAVE to_  
_ >> but uh_  
_ >> i’m not discouraging it either_

_< < i’m not good at selfies_

_> > quality takes a backseat as long as there’s visible nkd bits_

_< < you can send me nudes if you want_

_> > as in… open invitation?_

_< < yeah so you don’t have to ask every time  
<< i’m assuming you do this fairly regularly_

_> > i'm gonna ignore the callout there _  
_ >> ur a blessing keith_  
_ >> and fyi if u ever DO decide to dabble in nudes_  
_ >> pls for the love of god send me all of them_

_< < noted_

_> > [attachment: one image]_

_Saturday 6:42pm_

_> > do you want to go to the dollar theater with me hunk and pidge_  
_ >> they’re playing ghostbusters_  
_ >> we’re gonna throw marshmallows at the stay puff man_  
_ >> and abuse icee refill privileges_

_< < what time_

_> > 8_

_< < i’ll meet you there_

_Sunday 2:28pm_

_> > [attachment: one image]  
>> i met a dog today that looks just like hunk_

_< < it does look just like hunk_

_> > JUST LIKE HUNK_

_Sunday 7:58pm_

_> > are you a jock gay or an arts gay_

_< < what does that mean_

_> > would you rather have tickets to hamilton or tickets to the superbowl_

_< < i’d rather have tickets to les mis and watch the superbowl from my couch_

_> > oooh vers  
>> do u like sports then?_

_< < i tolerate them_  
_ << shiro loves football. adam too_  
_ << i know enough to follow_

_> > are u watching the game with them?_

_< < no_  
_ << I once caught shiro giving adam head during halftime of the Sunday night game_  
_so i avoid the apartment like the plague on Sundays_  
_ << i only watch football with them now if they have company over_

_> > where do u go?_

_< < library usually  
<< sometimes a movie_

_> > do u want to come watch it with me?  
>> or we could study if u don’t want to watch fb_

_< < i’ll come watch the game with you_

_> > text me and i’ll come let u in_

_< < i’ll be there in 20_

Keith took his time cleaning up his books and walking to Lance’s dorm, but still arrived earlier than promised.  As he approached the door, he pulled out his phone to text Lance, but the girl walking in front of him held the door open for him, so he shoved the phone back in his pocket and jogged up the stairs.  Lance’s dorm wasn’t hard to find, since he’d been there before and the door itself was covered in small, colorful paper tags bearing his name.  Keith had never kept the door tags that the RA taped to his own dorm room door every few weeks over the year he’d lived in the dorms, but from the sheer number of tags on Lance’s door, it looked like he’d kept every single tag from all four years.  Lance did seem like the type to do something like that.

Keith knocked three times on Lance’s door, adjusting the backpack strap slung over his shoulder as he waited.  It was only a moment before the door swung open, revealing Lance in an old t-shirt and boxers.  He scoffed when he saw Keith, tossing his hands in the air.  “You were supposed to text me!”

“Someone else let me in,” Keith said.  “I figured I wouldn’t make you walk all the way downstairs.”

“Well, the text was lazy me’s way of getting a heads up so I could put pants on, but damage done, I suppose,” Lance said, stepping back from the door to let Keith come inside.

“Pants are overrated and I don’t know why you’d wear them in your own room,” Keith said.  “I’ve _seen_ your dick, it’s not like we have to worry about indecency.”

“It’s called ‘manners’ Keith, and even though my mom lives an hour away, her Mom Senses are tingling right now.  I’m about to get a chancla to the face from 75 miles away.”

“What?”

Lance shook his head, yanking on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers.  “Nothin’.  Glad you came, dude.  The Lions are winning, fyi, but their defense has more holes than a block of cheese.”

Keith cast a cursory glance at the small television on Lance’s bookshelf.  “So you really just invited me over to watch the football game?”

“Would you rather study?” Lance asked.

“I kind of thought it was a thinly veiled excuse to have sex,” Keith said.

“Contrary to popular belief, my priority one is not to get into your pants,” Lance said, a teasing grin on his face.  “No matter how tight and sexy you tend to wear them.  Plus I’m slightly invested in how this horrible defensive line is going to stand up.”

Keith rolled his eyes.  “Fine.  Leave the game on, we can watch while I study.”

“Cool,” Lance said, turning toward his mini-fridge.  “Make yourself comfy.”

Keith took a seat on the end of Lance’s bed, spreading his Sociology textbook out in front of him.  Lance cocked his head to look as he wandered past, handing Keith a cold can of soda as he paused.  “That’s an interesting place to put a diagram of a vagina.”

“The chapter’s on the reproductive system,” Keith said.  “It’s the most logical place.”

“Vaginagram,” Lance said, immediately snickering as he dropped into his beanbag chair. 

“There’s a dick on the next page if that’s more your speed,” Keith said, idly flipping the page.

“It’s not really a one over the other kind of thing,” Lance said.  “I’ve definitely seen more vaginas up close than I have dicks, but the diagram of my own equipment is more unsettling.”

“Do you have a preference for girls, then? I don’t really know how being bi works besides the obvious.”

Lance shrugged, cracking open his own can of sofa.  “It’s less a preference and more a socially-driven proclivity for the path of least resistance.  For me, anyway.”

Keith’s brow lifted.  “So you think girls are easy?”

“Not what I said,” Lance said.  “If I’ve slept with more girls than I have guys, it’s probably because ninety percent of the people at our school are straight.”

“I guess that’s a fair point.”

“Fuckin—Christ, man, just tackle him,” Lance muttered, his attention drawn back to the game playing on the tv.

“You like football?”

Lance nodded.  “Yeah.  It was, like, family bonding.  Our whole family watches the Dolphins every week.  My abuelo had season tickets when we still lived in Miami and he’d take turns taking each of us grandkids to a game with him.  Now I usually just watch Sunday Night Football and whatever Dolphins games I can.”

“That’s cool,” Keith said.

They sat in companionably for a while, and Keith found himself more and more drawn into the game as Lance’s enthusiasm bled into Keith’s own skin.  At half-time, Lance took a sojourn to the bathroom and when he came back, he did not return to his beanbag chair and instead took a seat on the mattress beside Keith.  His attention was still wholly on the tv, but Keith’s was neither on the game nor his homework.  Lance’s sentiment from earlier had a delayed effect, breezing past him in the moment but slowly searing its way under Keith’s skin the longer he sat beside Lance – close enough to touch, yet not touching.

The thing that Keith couldn’t quite understand was what this whole arrangement meant to Lance if getting in Keith’s pants wasn’t priority number one.  Did Lance want something out of it?  _No_ , Keith told himself, recalling Lance’s rules from their first time.  So if Lance’s priority wasn’t sleeping with Keith, and he didn’t want to be in a _relationship_ with Keith, then what were they doing?  Was Keith the one pulling the strings here?  No, because Lance had _definitely_ been the one initiating in the office on Wednesday. 

“What did you mean when you said getting in my pants wasn’t your priority?”

Lance dragged his gaze away from the screen to blink at Keith with a blank expression, mouth full of chips.  “What?”

“When I got here.  You said ‘contrary to popular belief, your number one priority isn’t getting in my pants’,” Keith said.

Lance chewed thoughtfully for a moment, pinning Keith with an inscrutable look in his baby blue eyes.  “I just meant I want to be friends with you too, dude,” he said finally.  “Like the orgasms are a sweet perk, but I don’t want you to think I’m just using you for sex.  Now that I know you’re not _intentionally_ an asshole, I think you’re a pretty chill dude.  So like, not _every_ time we hang out alone has to be hot and heavy if we don’t want it to be.”

“Oh.”

“What’d you think I meant?”

Keith shrugged.  “I dunno.  Not that, I guess.”

“Why?”

“I think we’ve established that I’m not very good at making friends,” Keith said.  “So I guess the fact that you want to be friends with me outside of the fact that I’m willing to suck your dick is a little hard to wrap my head around.”

“You’ve got friends, though,” Lance said.  “I think Hunk and Pidge both consider you their friend.  Plus, as much as you say Matt and Adam are Shiro’s friends, they sound like they’re yours too.  And now you’ve got me, so even if I’m wrong, then that’s two friends in your pocket.”

Keith looked down at his textbook, open to yet another diagram of a vagina.  He wrinkled his nose.  “Maybe.”

“Is that okay?” Lance asked.

“What?”

“That I want to be your friend.”

“Yeah.”

Lance grinned.  “Cool.”

 

The team Lance was rooting for won, and shortly after the game ended, Shiro texted an all-clear that Adam wasn’t going to stay the night, but Keith didn’t feel much inclined to leave his spot on Lance’s bed.  For one thing, Lance had shifted so his head was resting against Keith’s thigh and his legs stretched out over the headboard of the bed, and Keith was not adverse to the warm presence in his lap.  For another, they were making decent headway on their homework packet for their sociology class – not that labelling the elements of the human reproductive system was too intensive.  Lance invested himself in making it more entertaining for the both of them, running inane commentary that Keith initially tried to discourage but couldn’t restrain his laughter.  Lance seemed to take the laughter as encouragement anyway.

“Hang on, hang on,” Lance said, sitting up and digging a Sharpie out of his backpack, resting on the floor beside the bed.  He uncapped the marker with his teeth and grabbed Keith’s hand, pressing the tip of the marker to the skin.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m labelling _your_ reproductive system,” Lance said, concentrated on whatever he was writing on the back of Keith’s hand.  “Jerkin’… off… hand…”

“Lance!” Keith slapped the marker out of Lance’s grip, watching as Lance tipped his head back and laughed.  Keith frowned at his hand, confirming what Lance had written on the back.  “I don’t think that’s part of the _reproductive_ system.”

“Well, going solo isn’t helpful to the actual reproducing part,” Lance conceded.  “But its related and it fuckin’ counts.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but then Lance gripped the hem of his t-shirt and started pushing it up, baring Keith’s stomach.  “What are you _doing?_ ” he protested, though his physical efforts to stop Lance were not full force.  They wrestled for a minute, both of them laughing too hard to put their full efforts into it as Lance still attempted to haul Keith’s shirt off his body.  However, as soon as Keith found himself flat on the mattress, his arms half-tangled in his shirt above his head and Lance straddling his waist, Lance stopped.  “What?” Keith asked after a moment, letting exasperation leak into his tone.  Lance wasn’t even trying to write on Keith, though the marker was still uncapped between his teeth.

“I was gonna draw on you more,” Lance said, once he’d removed the marker from his mouth.  He recapped it and tossed it in the general direction of his backpack.  “And then I remembered it’s a crime to vandalize works of art.”

Keith felt his cheeks heat.  It _sounded_ like something Lance would say, usually accompanied by a wink and a flirtatious smirk.  Keith would have rolled his eyes, maybe pressed a hand against Lance’s face to shove him away playfully, and let the comment roll off his shoulders innocently.  But there was no accompanying wink or smirk, and Keith was frozen like a deer in headlights as he took in the unguarded expression in Lance’s pretty eyes as they flicked back and forth between Keith’s face and the long plane of exposed skin. Lance studied him for another long moment and Keith could practically _feel_ his gaze dragging across Keith’s own skin like a physical touch.  It heated Keith’s veins, sending sparks shooting down his limbs in the best way.  Lance’s hand came up to caress the side of Keith’s ribcage, taking his time as he moved it slowly, _slowly_ up and over Keith’s collarbone before coming to rest on his jaw.  Lance’s thumb brushed gently over Keith’s lower lip and that gooey, tender feeling Keith had experienced on Wednesday was back in full force. Keith swallowed thickly, weak to stop it from pooling in his chest.

“I know I said every time we hang out doesn’t have to be hot and heavy,” Lance said quietly.  “But I super want to make out with you right now.”

“Do it,” Keith breathed out.

Lance leaned down without hesitation, crushing their mouths together in a searing kiss.  Keith looped one of his arms around Lance’s shoulders, feeling like no amount of contact was enough.  _This isn’t casual_ , some panicked part of Keith’s brain screamed.  _This is not ‘no strings’._

Lance’s lips moved slow, slick and hungry against Keith’s own, his hand still cupping Keith’s jaw like he was something fragile – something precious – and his touch dragged Keith under, drowning out the terrified voice in his head until all he could think of was _Lance._

 

It was two hours later when Keith finally slipped back in the door of his apartment, shutting it quietly behind him before quickly stealing away to his bedroom.  He stripped out of his clothes and collapsed on his bed in only his underwear, replaying the evening’s events in his head.  They hadn’t had sex – just kissed and kept their wandering hands away from the belt.  It was a strange feat of restraint that hadn’t actually felt restrained.  They’d gotten each other off with less, but the act of _just_ kissing felt so much more intimate.

Keith tried to still the fluttering in his chest as he recalled it.  The fear was still there – only numbed in the moment by Lance’s touch – but it was back in full force as Keith lay there in the darkness.  He’d tried to deny it, but the thought came unbidden, echoing through Keith’s head like a gong.

He _liked_ Lance.

Keith rolled over just thinking it, burying his face in the comforter as he tried to stuff down the feelings flooding his veins.  It was too much.  Keith had never dealt well with crushes anyway, but he’d also never had an _arrangement_ like this before, so he was even further out of his depth than he would have been if this was a crush that had developed outside of their… whatever it was.  Besides, Lance had been up front with the fact that he _didn’t_ want Keith to develop feelings for him.  They were friends – nothing more.  They made out and touched each others dicks, but they weren’t _involved_ and they weren’t going to be.

Maybe Keith needed to end it before it went too far, but he didn’t _want_ to.  He didn’t know if he could go back to being just friends with Lance after he’d watched him orgasm three separate times.  He didn’t know if he could handle the idea of _never_ seeing him like that again.

 _No_ , Keith decided, curling onto his side and wrapping his body around his pillow.  He was just projecting feelings on Lance because he’d never been intimate with another person.  The crush would wane.  In the meantime, Keith had no intention of stopping the arrangement as long as Lance was still into it.  If a hot guy wanted to make Keith come his brains out semi-regularly, then Keith was not objecting.  It didn’t _have_ to be more than that. 

He could handle this.  He could make this work.  Lance didn’t need to know that Keith had a stupid crush on him, and Keith could keep it from getting too far out of hand.  He could do this.

It was a long time before Keith fell asleep, and the only thing on his mind was a pair of blue eyes and soft lips.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this didn’t turn out like i wanted it to but take it before i make it worse peace out

“What’re you doing tonight?”

Lance glanced up from the textbook he’d been bent over and met Keith’s gaze from where he stood in the doorway of the Spanish lab.  “Uh, I work until seven and then nothing after that.”

“Homework?”

“I’ve finished everything due tomorrow.  Why?”

Keith glanced over his shoulder, making sure the English tutor on duty was still engaged with her student in the other room.  “Do you want to come over after work?”

Lance nodded easily.  “You got something on the agenda?”

“I’ve got an idea,” Keith said. He wasn’t willing to say it out loud with people so nearby, but he hoped Lance was getting the picture.  “Shiro’s at his boyfriend’s all night so we can… take our time.  Like we talked about.”

Lance’s eyes widened.  “Are you serious?”

Keith nodded.  “Just come over whenever.”

“Like seven-thirty?”

Keith nodded.  “I’ll text you the door code.”

“Do you need me to bring anything?”

Keith shook his head.  “I’m prepared.”

Keith watched Lance swallow heavily at the implication, but didn’t reveal his satisfied smirk until he’d already left the Language Lab.

 

In the following hours, Keith took his time enacting his plan for that evening.  He often prided himself on being a well-prepared – if sometimes impulsive – person, but as the minutes dragged past much more slowly than Keith had anticipated, he wondered if maybe his mistake was overthinking this.  There was no question that this was something he wanted to do, but the anxiety of not knowing _exactly_ what to do was getting to him.  He tried to reason with himself, knowing that Lance would probably be able to fill in most of the gaps in Keith’s experience, but the perfectionist streak in Keith’s veins burned at not being able to go in to this as an expert.

It was only a few minutes past seven-thirty when the knock sounded at Keith’s apartment door.  Even though he’d been pacing the living room, compulsively straighten things he’d never straightened before in his life, he jumped at the sound.  He took a deep breath, counted to three, and forced himself to walk calmly toward the door.  Lance stood on the other side, looking a bit wider-eyed than usual, but otherwise his bright self.  Keith chalked the way his breath hitched in his chest at the sight of him up to nerves.  “Hey dude.”

“Hi,” Keith said, before remembering to step back and let Lance into the apartment.  He closed it behind the man with a click that sounded louder in Keith’s head than it likely did in the space of the apartment.

“So you said you had something in mind?” Lance asked after the few moments of silence when it became apparent that Keith wasn’t going to be the first to break it.

Keith nodded, taking another deep breath and wishing he hadn’t been _thinking_ about this all day.  Why couldn’t he just be fucking impulsive? “Yeah.”

“Do you want to sit down?”

Keith took the invitation, grasping Lance’s hand in his own.  Instead of pulling him toward the living room, though, he made a beeline for his bedroom.  It wasn’t a space Keith had ever really invited someone into before and Keith tried not to think too hard about what Lance’s opinion on the sparsely decorated space would be.  He sat down on the edge of the bed, releasing Lance’s hand only once he’d done the same.

“You okay?”

Keith nodded again.

“Dude, you’ve said two words since I got here,” Lance pointed out.  “I’m gonna need a little bit more if you want me to believe you.”

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” Keith said bluntly, forcing the words out so that why would stop racing around and around in his brain.

“I did,” Lance confirmed, nodding once.  “And I do.”

“Did you mean it in the vague sense or the literal sense?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Like…”  Keith cocked his head to the side, pondering the best way to express his train of thought.  “Like, ‘fuck you’ as a general expression, or ‘fuck you’ as in, you want to put your dick inside of my ass?”

Lance chuckled.  “Both, I guess?  I do prefer to top.  Do you… have a preference?”

“I think I’m more curious about being on bottom.”  Keith’s hands fidgeted in his lap a bit, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the side of his middle finger – an old stim he didn’t even remember picking up.

Lance reached out his hand to grasp Keith’s again.  The slide of Keith’s thumb and finger bumped up in tempo, but he let the fingers of his opposite hand curl against Lance’s palm.  “Okay.  Let’s talk about it, then.  It’s okay to be nervous.”

Keith pulled his legs up, crossing them in front of him.  “You’ve done anal before, right?”

Lance nodded, and when Keith chanced a glance up, he saw Lance’s neutral expression.  It eased a bit of the knot in his chest to know Lance wasn’t openly making fun of his nerves.  “I have.  And my first time receiving anal was pretty awful and I vowed never to let anyone else have an experience like that if I could help it. And I’ve gotten pretty _damn_ good at helping it,” Lance added, winking exaggeratedly.

Some of the pressure lifted off of Keith’s chest at that.  “Oh.”

“Have you ever fingered yourself?” Lance asked.  “Experimented on your own?”

“Yeah,” Keith said.  “I have a toy that I’ve used a couple times.  I just haven’t… with another person.”

“That’s alright,” Lance said, his head bobbing in encouragement.  “But you know a little bit of what feels good, right?”

Keith felt he was about to become a bobble-head doll if he did anymore nodding, but speaking around the knot of nervous energy in his throat was difficult.  “I fingered myself in the shower.”

“How many fingers?”

“Three.”

“Was it nice?”

Keith nodded, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.  “I thought about you.”

Lance’s grin was slow and easy to spread across his handsome face.  “I’m flattered.”

“I just… don’t want to do it wrong,” Keith said.  “I hate not being good at stuff.”

“You’ll be just fine at it, Keith,” Lance said, and even though he was chuckling, Keith did not get the impression that he was being laughed at.  It loosened up the tension in his shoulders just a fraction.  “I promise.  Let’s just start with what we know, and then when you’re ready, we’ll go a little further.  Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed, and he felt like there wasn’t enough air in the apartment to fill his lungs properly.  The hand that wasn’t holding Keith’s came up to rest on Keith’s thigh, and as he leaned in, Keith parted his lips in eager anticipation of the kiss.  Before he got too close, however, Lance paused to catch Keith’s eyes.

“I need you to promise me that if you need to stop or slow down for _any_ reason, you will tell me.  Okay?  Any reason whatsoever. Sex is only sexy as long as everyone’s having a good time.”

Keith nodded, but Lance repeated the question until Keith verbalized the answer.  “I promise.”

“Can I kiss you?” Lance asked.

“Yes.”

Lance smiled, apparently pleased with the verbal response and finally captured Keith’s lips with his own.  Keith’s stomach felt like it was doing its best impression of an Olympic gymnast, but he couldn’t deny the satisfying warmth that spread through his veins at Lance’s touch.  It was easy to relax under Lance’s kiss, so Keith let himself melt into it, his hands sliding closer, fingers wrapping around the soft fabric at Lance’s sides.  Keith lost track of who was setting the pace, but whichever one of them was doing it, they were doing it perfectly. 

“How do you feel about losing the shirt?” Lance murmured.

“I feel like it’s one of your better ideas,” Keith hummed in return, sliding one of his hands under the hem of Lance’s shirt.

“Ooh, there he is,” Lance teased, his lips curling as he pressed a kiss to the bow of Keith’s upper lip.  “Feeling comfier?”

Keith shrugged, letting Lance sit back far enough to help him out of his shirt.  Once Keith was bare, he turned his attention to unbuttoning Lance’s shirt, drinking in the smooth, sun-kissed skin beneath the floral pattern.  Keith leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the dip between Lance’s collarbones before sitting back up and pushing the shirt off his shoulders.

“I’m starting to get the vague impression that you have a thing for my collarbones,” Lance commented.

Keith flicked an eyebrow up in consideration.  “Forbidden fruit and all that.  Makes it that much more tempting.”

“Why do you make it sound like you’re about to take a bite out of me?”

Keith smirked, draping his arms around Lance’s bare shoulders.  “What, you think I’m some kind of rule-breaking hooligan?”

“Yeah.”

“Good call,” Keith murmured, dipping in just close enough to nip lightly at the side of Lance’s neck – not nearly enough to leave a mark, but enough for Lance to get the picture.

Lance groaned low in his chest before the sound turned into a chuckle.  “God, why is that _hot_?  Me and my stupid rules. Is it too late for me to reverse all my rules?”

“We made the rules for a reason,” Keith said.  “You’re just turned on because you know you’re gonna get some ass.”

Lance huffed out a laugh.  “Something like that.  Do you wanna make out some more?” he asked, his voice even softer than the thumb ghosting across Keith’s naval.

Keith hummed his agreement and let them both fall back against the bed, side by side.  Their lips met again and this time it was hungrier, both of them understanding exactly where they were heading.  The nerves were back, but easier to manage when coupled with warm splay of Lance’s hand across the small of Keith’s back.  Their kissing grew sloppier, the slide of mouths in the general vicinity of mouths, easily dipping down to cover jawlines and columns of exposed throat before returning to red and bitten lips.  Keith hitched a knee up against Lance’s hip, rolling his hips into Lance almost unconsciously, asking for more. 

“Pants?” Lance asked, the question skating across the surface of Keith’s shoulder along with his hot breath and attentive mouth.

“Off,” Keith answered, wondering briefly where the air in his lungs had gone.

Lance obliged, taking his time to slide his hand appreciatively down Keith’s body before relieving him of his jeans.  Keith watched as Lance did the same with his own pants, taking in the obvious tent in his boxers once they were revealed with his lower lip between his teeth.

“Someone’s excited.”

Lance chuckled.  “Looks like you are too, man.”

“Underwear too,” Keith said, pushing down the waistband of his own briefs with his thumbs.  “C’mon.  I’m getting impatient.”

Lance shook his head, clicking his tongue disapprovingly even as he followed Keith’s lead.  “What’d I tell you man?”

“Don’t remember,” Keith said, sitting up so he could wrap his hands around Lance’s waist.  Lance knelt between Keith’s bent legs, the few inches of height advantage causing him to look down at Keith.  “Just want you to fuck me.”

“Patience,” Lance reminded him, ducking his head low enough to kiss the shell of Keith’s ear.  “I’m assuming you have supplies, Mr. I’m-Prepared?”

Keith nodded, releasing Lance long enough to retrieve the items he’d been sure to purchase beforehand.  A small bottle of lube and a strip of condoms were placed in Lance’s hands.  It was perfunctory, but in some way felt to Keith like an act of trust.  This was Keith putting this all in Lance’s court, because he didn’t know what he was doing.

“Do you want me to do this part, or do you want to?”

“You.” There was no hesitation in Keith’s response and he hoped it didn’t sound too eager.  If Lance thought twice about it, he didn’t show it. 

“Do you want to be on your stomach or on your back?”

Keith bit his lip again, pondering the question.  “I don’t know,” he said finally.

Lance reached for Keith’s chin, pulling his gaze up to meet Lance’s own. “Are you sure you want to do this tonight?”

“Yes,” Keith said firmly.  He swallowed hard, stretching out a hand to brush against the side of Lance’s neck, pulling him in for a gentle kiss.  “I want this.  I won’t lie and say I’m not nervous, because I am, but it’s only because I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.  I promise I will tell you if I’m uncomfortable, but I really need you to take the lead for the moment and tell me what the best way to proceed will be.”

Lance looked surprised by the statement, or maybe the calmness with which Keith expressed his nerves, but he nodded.  “I think you’ll be more comfortable on your stomach,” he said softly, prompting Keith to roll over.  “You said you showered?”

“Yeah,” Keith confirmed.  “I’m all cleaned up and stretched out.”

Keith couldn’t stop the way his face heated immediately as Lance’s hands brushed across his ass, starting with gentle, feather-like touches that gradually turned into harder, kneading strokes that Keith had to bite his lip to keep from reacting to verbally.  When Lance’s thumb finally brushed across Keith’s entrance, Keith couldn’t stop the little moan that slipped up from his throat, though he immediately buried his face in the pillow beneath him in an effort to hide it.  The chuckle he heard behind him indicated his attempts had not been successful.

“You like that, honey?” Lance asked, now circling Keith’s rim with his thumb.  It was all teasing touches and nothing even close to satisfying the ache of arousal starting to burn in Keith’s gut.

Keith shifted, freeing his mouth from the confines of the pillow so that Lance could hear him.  “Feels good,” he gasped, trying to cant his hips into Lance’s touch.  All it really succeeded in doing was grinding his neglected cock into the mattress, which felt _good_ , but it wasn’t the sensation Keith was chasing at the moment.  “More.”

“So impatient,” Lance whispered, and Keith shivered at the breath ghosting across his bare skin.  “God, Keith, your ass is so gorgeous,” he whispered.  “It’s unreal.”

Keith buried his face in the pillow again, his face heating in embarrassment at the compliment.  Lance continued toying with Keith’s plush ass, squeezing and rubbing and kneading, until Keith felt his cheeks pulled apart and a sudden wet heat lapping at his hole.  “ _Lance!”_

Lance hummed, his tongue just catching on Keith’s rim and turning any coherent thought in Keith’s brain into pudding.  He squeezed his eyes shut, clutching the pillow harder as he tried to catch up with his current situation – you know, now that Lance had up and decided to toss his salad without warning.  Keith wasn’t complaining but _holy shit_ , he’d never expected to like it this much.

“Jesus, Lance—” Keith panted, squirming desperately under Lance’s touch.  “ _Fuck_.”

Lance tongue prodded at Keith’s entrance a few more moments, slipping just barely inside before continuing to tease and work Keith up into a horny mess.  Then the tongue disappeared behind lips and teeth, and the teeth nipped playfully at the curve of Keith’s ass as a slick finger pushed its way inside.

“You’re really adorable when you’re all worked up,” Lance commented, his voice breathy and so _ridiculously_ arousing that Keith almost wanted to punch him.  Just on virtue of being sexy.

“ _More_ ,” Keith said, rocking his hips back against Lance’s hand as his finger curled inside of him.  “I already did most of the stretching.”

“Doesn’t hurt to do it again,” Lance said.  “We’re taking our time after all, right?”

Keith let out a frustrated noise.  “Just one feels weird,” Keith said.  “It’s too… clinical.”

“What, you get this squirmy during a prostate exam?”

“I’ve never _had_ one, dickhead,” Keith said.  “Besides, we could be here all night if that’s what you’re looking for.”

Lance made an indignant noise, withdrawing his hand all together.  “I know where the prostate is, Keith!”

“Not according to the diagramming homework we did last night,” Keith retorted.

“Are we really arguing about this while I’m knuckle deep in your ass?”

“Just put another finger in!”

“You’re so bossy, fine!” Lance said, and with the slightest stretch of Keith’s rim, he had two of Lance’s long, pretty, lube-soaked fingers buried in his ass.

Keith would not admit that the sound that left him was a moan, but it felt so _damn_ good that he really didn’t think anyone would blame him if it sounded moan-like.  Lance didn’t hesitate to prove he worked well with his hands, either – immediately curling and thrusting them like he’d been professionally trained to take Keith apart with his fingers alone.

“Fuck, honey, you’re taking my fingers so well,” Lance said, more of a hushed whisper than a statement.  “You like it when I finger-fuck you like this?”

Keith nodded fervently against his pillow, wondering if he was grateful for Lance’s decision to put him on his stomach so that he didn’t have to look Lance in the eye while he fingered him, or if he was missing out on Lance eye-fucking him at the same time.  “I like it,” Keith panted softly, squirming against Lance’s fingers and trying to get a bit more friction on his cock at the same time.  “Scissor them a little more?”

Lance obliged, stretching out Keith’s entrance with careful, attentive fingers.  His fingers felt so much different than Keith’s own, longer and warmer and easily reaching spots that were difficult for Keith to find on his own.  He let out a quiet groan, letting his eyes slip close as Lance’s fingers curled deep inside of him.

“You look—” Lance exhaled sharply as Keith let out another pleased hum.  “ _Fuck_ , you look so good like this, Keith.  Shit, baby, you’re so fuckin’ pretty on my fingers.”

“Give me another one,” Keith said, rocking himself back even more aggressively now to meet Lance’s fingers.  “C’mon, I’m not gonna break.”

“I should’ve pegged you for a power bottom from the start,” Lance chuckled, withdrawing his fingers for a moment to slick them up a bit more.  He plunged three of them back into Keith’s entrance, pulling an (unfortunately undeniable) moan from Keith’s throat at the motion.

“ _Fuck_ , yeah,” Keith groaned out.  “That’s so good.  Fuck, just—you’re almost there, Lance, please—"

Lance continued stretching Keith out, more eager in his ministrations with every sound out of Keith’s throat.  Lance’s fingers crooked _just_ right and Keith couldn’t stop the shout that slipped up out of his throat.  “Oh _god_!”

Lance chuckled and the sound reverberated through Keith’s veins like thunder.  “And you thought I didn’t know where the prostate was.”

“You couldn’t find it on the damn diagram last night, so forgive me for doubting you,” Keith panted.

Lance curled his fingers again, striking Keith’s sweet spot head on and sending Keith’s spine arching.  “Hm, might need a little more begging before I’m inclined to forgive you.”

“Lance, I swear to— _god!”_

Lance clicked his tongue, pulling his fingers out and leaving Keith aching at the loss.  “What do you think, honey?  Think you’re ready for my cock?”

“ _Yes_.”

Lance chuckled, reaching for a condom as Keith pulled his limbs under him, pushing up on his knees and elbows.  Lance opened the condom deftly, rolling it over his member with a few extra strokes of his lube-stained hand to make sure he was ready, and leaned over Keith’s form.  “Are you doing okay?”

“Yes,” Keith breathed out.  “Please fuck me, Lance.”

Lance reached a hand down to guide himself into Keith’s stretched hole, sliding in slowly but easily thanks to their careful preparation.  Keith’s brows knit themselves together at the sensation of Lance sliding so hot and _thick_ inside of him.  It was so much better than fingers and so _so_ much better than a dildo.  By the time Lance was fully seated inside of him, Keith was panting into his pillow, his forehead pressed hard against the back of his hand.

“A—"

“For the love of _god_ , Lance, if you ask me if I’m okay right now, I’ll throttle you with my bare hands.”

“I wasn’t gonna,” Lance denied breathlessly.

“Just _fuck_ me,” Keith snapped.

“Gimme a sec,” Lance said, his hands gripping Keith’s hips a little tighter, preemptively stopping Keith in his tracks.  “Jesus, you’re so fucking tight, Keith.”

Keith was spared having to supply a coherent response when Lance _finally_ started to move, rocking his hips backwards a few inches before pushing back into Keith with a heady gasp.  After a few more careful rocks, Lance seemed to grow a little more comfortable with the momentum and thrust with a bit more force.  He pulled out nearly all the way before sinking eagerly back in, and Keith’s head spun from pleasure at the sensation.

“Christ, Keith, you feel so good,” Lance mumbled, pressing his lips against the middle of Keith’s spine.  Keith wished he could see him right now – his pretty blue eyes probably dark with lust, and his lips parted as he tried to keep up with the air supply his lungs were demanding.  Keith wanted to kiss him until they were both breathless, trying desperately to hold it together as Lance thrust mercilessly into him—

“Wait,” Keith panted.  “Wait, Lance.”

Lance stopped in his tracks, pulling out so fast that Keith whimpered as his hole clenched around air.  “Are you okay?”

Keith nodded, grasping Lance’s arm in an effort to calm the thunderstruck expression on his face.  “I’m fine,” Keith promised.  “I just want to switch positions.”

“Oh,” Lance breathed out, visibly relieved as he sat back on his heels.  “All right, we can do that.  How do you want it?”

“Can I ride you?”

“Of course,” Lance agreed, switching places with Keith so that he was the one lying down, back propped up against the headboard.  Keith swung a leg across Lance’s lap until he was straddling his waist, reaching back and trying to get a firm enough grasp on Lance’s slick length to ease him back inside.  Lance was quick to help, holding himself steady against Keith’s entrance.  “That’s it, sweetheart.  Just ease back—”

Keith felt the satisfying stretch as Lance’s cock slipped back into him and greedily chased the sensation, sinking down to the hilt faster than Lance might have been expecting, if the way he choked on his breath was any indication.  “Heh.”  Keith smirked down at Lance’s stunned expression.  He shifted his hips a bit, relishing the sensation of Lance buried balls deep inside of him.  “Like that?”

“Holy _shit_ ,” Lance wheezed, his brows pinched in awe as Keith lifted up just a few inches before sinking back down on Lance’s length.  “Fuck, I thought you were nervous.”

“I’m a quick learner,” Keith said, steadying himself with a hand on Lance’s thigh so he could drop his hips into a steady rhythm.  He pretended not to notice the way his fingers were trembling and prayed Lance ignored it too.  “And I have a pretty good teacher.”

Lance let out a disbelieving laugh, his gaze travelling briefly toward the ceiling.  “Oh my god.”  If Keith hadn’t been paying rapt attention to the other man’s face, he wouldn’t have noticed as Lance’s confident façade cracked – just a little; just enough that Keith almost didn’t catch it even _with_ his singular focus on Lance’s expression. He looked so awestruck that for an instant, Keith forgot his own nerves entirely.

“You okay?”

Lance scoffed, gaze flicking up to Keith’s. “I should be asking you that.”

“You look… overwhelmed.”

Lance nodded quickly.  “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this.  Can’t believe you let me be your first.”

“Why not?”

“Feels too good to be real,” Lance murmured, rubbing his thumb in shaky circles against Keith’s thigh.

“So do you,” Keith encouraged, rolling his hips a little harder.  “Fuck, you feel a hell of a lot better than a dildo.”

Lance let out a breathy laugh. “Thanks.”

“Will you t— _ah!_ ” Keith’s grasp on language slipped as Lance thrust up to meet him and his cock brushed past his prostate.  “Fuck, just touch me? Please?”  He swallowed hard, pulling Lance’s hand up from its resting spot on his thigh up until his fingers were splayed over half of Keith’s chest.  “I want to feel you _everywhere_.”

“Shit,” Lance whispered shakily, letting his fingers caress Keith’s skin at the request.

Keith let his eyes slip shut as Lance’s hands traced the dips and curves of his torso and focused on his own task, bouncing on Lance’s cock with an urgency that had crawled straight up from the pit of his stomach, spurred on by the flames of arousal that Lance had been stoking this whole time.  Lance’s fingers trembled as he wrapped one of his hands around Keith’s dick, stroking slowly, and slid his opposite hand around to spread across as much of Keith’s back as he could reach.

“I’m close,” Lance choked a few moments later.  “Fuck, you’re so good—"

“Kiss me,” Keith commanded, prying his eyes open for just long enough to meet Lance’s eyes, his pupils blown wide just like Keith had hoped.  “Kiss me, Lance.”

Lance leaned up before Keith had even finished his sentence, capturing Keith’s lips in a harsh kiss fueled almost entirely by the peaking arousal swirling in both of their stomachs.  Keith’s eyes slipped closed again as he melted against Lance, grinding hard into his lap in a way that prompted Lance’s grip on Keith’s cock to tighten and his lips to fall open with a harsh gasp of Keith’s name.  Keith rode him through it, his own orgasm only brought closer by the way Lance bucked underneath him, his cock twitching where it was buried deep inside.  Keith’s hips slowed as his whole body trembled and his vision went white.  His forehead was rested against Lance’s, their breath mingling in hard pants and gasps as their lungs worked overtime to catch up with the exertion they’d put out.

“So,” Lance panted, his bright blue gaze blinking up at Keith as they both came back to themselves.  “What’d you think?”

Keith couldn’t stop the snort of laughter that overtook him, his head lolling to one side and catching on Lance’s shoulder.  The shift provided a strange twinge of overstimulation, reminding Keith of the dick still occupying his ass.  “It was definitely an experience,” Keith answered carefully, slowly lifting himself up and letting Lance slide out of him.  He winced as Lance’s mostly soft member landed with a wet slap against his hip.

“An experience,” Lance repeated, his gaze never leaving Keith’s face.  “A good experience or a bad one?”

“Good,” Keith said softly, glancing up at Lance through his lashes.  “Like, _really_ good.”

Lance’s familiar grin made a reappearance.  “Excellent.”

“I kind of want to sleep for a year now,” Keith said, swinging his leg over Lance’s body so he could sit down beside him.

“You should clean up first,” Lance said, sliding the condom off of his dick and tying it up.

“Do you want to shower?” Keith asked, not quite meeting Lance’s eye.

“You can go first,” Lance said.

“I meant, uh—together,” Keith said, staring hard at a loose thread on his blankets.

Lance was quiet for long enough that Keith started to wonder if he’d offended him somehow. 

“Or not,” Keith said finally, unable to take the silence.  “You can just shower and leave if you want.”

“Hey,” Lance said, and Keith startled briefly at the touch that pulled his chin toward Lance, forcing his gaze to meet that gorgeous blue.  “I’d love to shower with you, Keith.”


	11. Chapter 11

That following day was a completely normal Tuesday.  Keith sat through his classes as usual, went home for lunch with Shiro, and returned to campus for his shifts at work.  He had a casual conversation with Lance in a lull at the Language Lab, wherein Lance asked not-so-tactfully how his ass was faring today, but then quickly resumed being a very average interaction.  Well, as average as it could be with Lance was involved, because the very sound of his voice could send a swarm of butterflies diving through Keith’s stomach.

Nothing had changed.  Not _really_.  Keith had never been under the impression that his virginity meant anything.  It was a patriarchal concept that didn’t truly matter in the grand scheme of things, and Keith had never put much stock into it.  That said, he still felt like _something_ would have felt different.  He felt like it would have been written across his face or something.  It wasn’t – nobody said a word or even gave him a second look.  Which was a good thing.  Keith kept reminding himself that it was a good thing.

Nothing changed.

Except that Keith couldn’t stop thinking about Lance, even when they weren’t together.

Except that Lance started inviting Keith out with him and his friends almost every day.

Except that Shiro was picking up on the fact that Keith was making actual, genuine _friends_ outside of himself, and seizing every opportunity to encourage this turn of events.

Except that Keith was prone to making the very worst decisions imaginable when it came to Lance.

Exhibit A: Lance was studying in the library while Keith shelved returns.  It couldn’t possibly have been a coincidence like Lance played it off to be, because Lance wasn’t subtle about knowing Keith’s schedule.

Keith, on the other hand, at least pretended he was working despite taking his sweet time shelving the returns.  He kind of liked listening to Lance ask questions aloud in the quiet library, waiting for Keith’s reply before the scratch of Lance’s pencil filled the air.  It felt comfortable.

But of course, Keith couldn’t just leave well enough alone.

“You know, we’ve come a long way from the night you screamed my name through the whole library to apologize for _me_ kissing _you_.”

Lance leaned back in his chair, far enough that he could look down the aisle Keith was working in, a shit-eating smirk on his face.  “Wanna reenact it?”

Keith rolled his eyes, pretending that wasn’t _exactly_ what he’d been angling for in bringing it up.  “I’m working.”

“Mm, are you really though?” Lance asked, and suddenly he was out of his chair, leaning against the aisle end-cap with an infuriatingly laid-back aura.  “Because you’d usually be on, like, your third cart for all the time I’ve been sitting here, and you’re only halfway through the first.”

Keith grunted in lieu of responding.

Lance slid closer, his smirk only growing.  “Maybe you brought it up because you’re itchin’ for a little… distraction.”

Keith slid a book onto the shelf with a bit too much gusto, but Lance just shrugged, crouching down low to peruse one of the bottom shelves.

“So, uh, random change of subject here,” Lance said.  Keith chanced a glance down, and now Lance was the one pointedly avoiding eye-contact.  “What’re your kinks?”

“Uh,” Keith said eloquently, fumbling the next book he had intended to pick up.

Lance scratched the back of his neck, looking up at Keith with a sheepish grin.  “I was just wondering if you had anything else you liked.  Or want to try.  Or hard no-go’s.”

“I don’t know what I’m into,” Keith said honestly.  “Is there something _you_ want to try?”

Lance shrugged, tipping a book halfway out of its spot before letting it drop back into place.  “Maybe. Like, I don’t have any super crazy kinks, but there are some things that are just a turn-off to people.”

“I can’t say I’ve put a ton of thought into it,” Keith said, quickly glancing through the library floor to make sure they were alone.  “If you tell me what you want, I’ll be honest with whether or not I’d be willing to try it.”

“Would you think I’m vain if I told you I have a praise kink?”

“What, you want to wear lingerie and I’ll tell you how pretty you are?”

Lance turned red instantly, eyes widening as he kept his gaze trained on some random book.

“Really?”

“Please don’t make fun.”

“I’m not making fun of you,” Keith insisted.  “It isn’t what I expected, but it kinda makes sense?  I bet you look really good in lace.”

Lance bit his lower lip, the tips of his ears still brightly flushed.  “You really haven’t put _any_ thought into something you’d want to try? You seem like you’d be into spanking or something.”

“I’d let you spank me.”

Lance gaped, eyes nearly bulging out of his head.  “Seriously?”

Keith shrugged.  “I’d try it.  Or maybe, like, light bondage.  And I like when you pull my hair.”

“I don’t have a full-on daddy kink, but when you get bossy in bed, that’s hot as hell,” Lance blurted out.

Keith flushed, but he couldn’t stop the smile quirking at the corner of his mouth.  “Hm.  I don’t know if the other day in the office really counts as exhibitionism, but the idea of getting caught is kind of a turn on.”

Lance smiled, waggling his eyebrows.  “Yeah?  You like to live on the wild side?”

Keith channeled all his effort into schooling his expression, stuffing back the part of his brain taking all the bad ideas this conversation was inspiring and running away with them. “Maybe.”

“Would you suck me off right here if I asked you to?”

Keith tried to will the heat to stay out of his cheeks but had a vague idea that he was failing.  “I’m working.”

“For, like, three more minutes.”

Keith glanced out the corner of his eye at the empty library floor.  The Bad Idea Goblin in his brain was working overtime.  “I could get fired.”

“That’s the whole idea, though, right?” Lance asked, and _god,_ Keith hated that he was so fucking right.  “We already did it at your other job.”

Keith swallowed hard, feeling his resistance weakening.  “You want it?”

Lance huffed.  “You already know how much I love your mouth on me, _guapo._ ”

From there, it was a relatively straight line of events leading up to the moment when Keith swallowed Lance’s dick whole.

Not that there was much “straight” about this arrangement. 

The Bad Idea Goblin in the back of Keith’s brain was quite enthusiastic about this break in moral code, but it wasn’t like Keith had ever held himself to any real vigorous personal standards. Still, Keith was pretty sure blowing another dude in the library was not only against the library’s code of conduct but would definitely get him fired if they got caught.  Maybe it was the risk itself sending exhilaration through Keith’s veins, or maybe it was just the same feeling Keith got whenever he was with Lance amplified by ten.

Or maybe Keith was just trying to blame his desperation for any attention whatsoever from Lance on his burgeoning exhibitionist kink.

“Jesus _Christ_ , Keith—” Lance’s desperate whisper sounded loud enough to echo throughout the entire library floor.  His hand was fisted in Keith’s hair, his hips desperately canting deeper into Keith’s mouth as he rapidly approached his finish.  Keith took pride in the fact that he’d spent every recent possible opportunity figuring out _exactly_ how Lance liked it, and knew how to make this quick enough that they wouldn’t get caught.

He swallowed Lance’s climax and wiped his mouth, tucking Lance back into his pants.  Lance moved to kneel, to reciprocate, but at the same moment, the elevator bell dinged and a few chattering voices entered the floor.  They froze, Keith shaking his head minutely at Lance, who stood back up.  “I’ll meet you in the lobby,” Keith whispered, grabbing his empty returns cart and pushing it toward the elevator.

By the time Keith had returned the cart to the desk and retrieved his things, Lance was waiting by the exit to walk back together.  They chatted as they walked, but when they approached Lance’s dorm, Lance didn’t make a move toward it.

“Are you coming over?”

Lance shrugged, not even glancing toward his building as they passed it by.  He made it a few steps in front of Keith, walking backwards as he attempted to make Keith’s hair look a bit more presentable.  “Is that okay?”

“Stop fucking with my hair,” Keith said, swatting Lance’s hands away from his head.  “It’s fine.”

“Your hair is fine or me coming over is fine? Because I did a fuckin’ number on your hair, dude. You look like a post-orgy walk of shame.”

Keith shrugged, pulling an elastic out of his pocket and holding it between his teeth as he used his hands to shove all the hair he could away from his face.  “Both,” Keith said, before he pulled the elastic out of his mouth and used it to secure his ponytail with a few tight twists.

“You look sexy with your hair pushed back,” Lance joked, still walking backwards in front of Keith.

“You look like you’re about to introduce your already flat ass to the pavement,” Keith retorted.

“Ouch,” Lance said, holding a hand up to his chest. “I thought you loved my ass, Keith.”

“You’re confusing my feelings for your ass with your feelings for my ass,” Keith shot back.

Lance pouted as Keith punched in the door code to let them both into the building and led the way up to the apartment.

The volume was the first indication that Keith was walking into something unexpected.  Music that loud usually indicated that Matt was over, but as Keith pushed his way into his apartment, he walked into a full-blown party.

Party was a generous term, maybe.  It was loud enough to be a party, and there was enough alcohol sitting on the kitchen counter for it to be a party, but Keith wasn’t sure if six people really constituted a party.  Eight, if you counted himself and Lance, walking in the door just disheveled enough to pass as wind-blown and not sex-mussed.

“Hey, they’re here!” Hunk shouted, throwing his arms in the air.

“Hey guys,” Adam waved. “Beer?”

“Shiro, you didn’t tell me you were throwing a party?” Keith said, toeing his shoes off.

“It’s just movie night,” Shiro replied, coming out of the living room with a beer in his hand.  “But I didn’t want you to run screaming at the concept of having people in our apartment.”

“Lance was tasked to make sure you got here,” Matt said, leaning against the kitchen counter.  “Nice job taking your sweet-ass time.”

“The library busy?” Allura asked.

“Nah,” Lance said. 

Keith stepped on his foot.

Shiro lifted a brow.  “Then what were you guys up to?”

“Research!” Lance exclaimed, at the same moment Keith uttered a flat “studying”. They exchanged a look at the almost cohesive lie.

“We’re in the same sociology class,” Lance elaborated needlessly, and Keith had spending enough time with Lance to recognize when he was nervous-rambling. “We like to study together. Y’know, hit the books hard and put ‘em away wet. You can never be too prepared.  I’m just waiting for Coran to surprise us with a huge pac-uh, project. Huge project.”

Pidge choked on their drink, nearly spewing beer across the room.  Lance paled so fast that Keith almost worried he was going to pass out.

“Like I said,” Keith cut in.  “I didn’t know there was a party.”

“Well, we’re glad you’re finally here,” Shiro said.  “We were waiting for you to see what kind of pizza to order.”

“Hawaiian!” Lance exclaimed, high-fiving Hunk in a show of solidarity.  Why they would high-five over fruit on pizza was beyond Keith, but he didn’t voice his opinion.  Pidge did it for him.

“Ew,” Pidge said,

“Whatever is fine,” Keith said.  “I’m not picky.”

Shiro scoffed.  “Bullshit.  Try again.”

Keith crossed his arms over his chest, casting an unimpressed look at his roommate. “Pepperoni.”

“ _Thank_ you,” Shiro said, tapping the order into the laptop open on the kitchen counter.  “So one Hawaiian, two pepperoni, one cheese?”

“Two cheese,” Adam said.  “Matt can eat a whole one by himself, remember?”

“Got it,” Shiro said.  “Thirty minutes to pizza bliss.”

“Let’s start the previews so we can be ready for the movie when the pizza’s here,” Matt suggested.

“We’re not watching the previews on a twenty-year-old movie, Matt,” Adam responded.

“I thought we were watching _Ghostbusters_?”

“ _Ghostbusters_ is more like thirty years,” Hunk pointed out.

“The _good_ Ghostbusters,” Matt said.  "With Melissa McCarthy."

“The reboot?” Allura asked.

“Yeah.”

“We’re watching _Ten Things I Hate About You_ ,” Adam said.

“Or we could watch _Ghostbusters_ ,” Matt said.

“We’re not watching _Ghostbusters_.”

Keith rolled his eyes.  “This is why we don’t have movie night without a unanimous agreement on _which_ movie we’re watching beforehand.”

“We _did_ have a unanimous agreement,” Adam insisted.  “You were the only one who didn’t approve the movie beforehand. Matt, you said you were good!”

“I _thought_ we were watching _Ghostbusters_ ,” Matt repeated.

“We don’t even have _Ghostbusters_ on dvd,” Shiro said.

“Oh,” Matt said.  “We can watch whatever, then.”

Pidge’s head dropped back, rolling their eyes at the ceiling.  “You’re one of the top students in the geology program, Matthew, and yet you insist on acting like a dumbass.”

“Being intelligent and being a dumbass are not mutually exclusive, Pidge-podge.”

“They definitely are though?”

Keith’s attention was drawn away from the others when Lance’s shoulder bumped up against his, his lips brushing the shell of Keith’s ear as he leaned in.  “This is kind of why I didn’t tell you what was happening.”

“Because it being sprung on me is so much better,” Keith muttered, just low enough that Lance could hear him.

“You wanna make an excuse to sneak away and I can return the favor from earlier?” Lance’s voice dropped even lower, sending a single shock of white-hot electricity through Keith’s spine. _Uh, yes!_ Keith’s brain screamed, already supplying Keith with well-informed ideas of just how good of an idea that was. His fingernails dig into his palm, pressed tightly in a fist as he worked to stay stone-faced in the crowded kitchen.

“Tempting,” Keith whispered.  “But it’s too suspicious.”

“Doesn’t have to be obvious,” Lance said before moving to a more casual distance with a light squeeze around Keith’s wrist.  What that meant, Keith wasn’t sure, but Lance left his side to drop to the floor in front of where Hunk was sitting, so Keith wedged himself between Pidge and the sofa arm and tried not to think about what would happen if everyone else in the room knew about him and Lance.

No, nothing had changed between them, but that was only because Keith and Lance hadn’t been doing _anything_ long enough to have something established enough to be subject to change. The change Keith had so fervently been denying was their dynamic settling — hardening into the pattern they would come to accept as their standard.

It was dangerous, Keith realized.  So incredibly dangerous to let himself become _comfortable_ with Lance.  They had already begun to develop a routine.  Keith rationalized it of course — they both had busy schedules and they were still keeping this a secret, so of _course_ their free time would fall into patterns and they would hook up accordingly. It wasn’t like Keith was dedicating _all_ of his spare time to sleeping with Lance.  He stuffed back the tiny voice in his head that reminded him that he spent it all _thinking_ about Lance even if they weren’t together.

Sundays they would spend in Lance’s dorm room, because Keith couldn’t be paid to step foot in his own apartment between the hours of five pm and one am.  Sometimes they did homework and sometimes they fucked and sometimes they managed to get both done in the time before Keith slipped back into his jeans and out the door.

Mondays Keith had the apartment to himself, which meant a reciprocal invitation was extended to Lance because Shiro _always_ spent Monday nights at Adam’s – something about the importance of establishing tradition, which really just meant that Adam had ESPN and they spent all night watching Monday Night Football. 

On Monday evenings Lance and Keith really did study, because they never managed to finish all their homework on Sundays before one of them broke down and initiated sex.  Only after they’d finished every bit of homework and reading for their shared class did they retreat to Keith’s bedroom.  They had _some_ self-control, after all.

Wednesday’s were a quick fuck in the afternoon if they could find the time, and Fridays usually wound up being similar, though Lance _always_ had plans Friday nights. Keith kept himself busy, obviously, usually turning down Lance’s offers to join him for whatever party or social mixer was on the agenda. There had to be a limit to how much time they spent together, after all.  Keith was pretty sure they were only pity invites anyway, so whenever they saw each other on campus, they were friendly, but Keith tried to keep a respectable distance.  After all, it wasn’t like they were sex-crazed maniacs who couldn’t keep their hands off of each other.  Except that they definitely were, and the little voice in Keith’s brain that told him this was more than _just sex_ was getting harder and harder to ignore.

That didn’t mean he stopped ignoring it.  If there was one thing Keith was good at, it was running away from his problems. 

Keith swallowed, forcing his mind into the present as he tried to tune back in to the conversation happening over him – Pidge had asked Adam a question regarding gender politics in the medical field and in the time that Keith had spent zoned out, they had devolved into so much jargon-laden nonsense that Keith couldn’t even fathom catching up on the conversation.

The conversation Keith was fruitlessly trying to distract himself with paused as Pidge stood to retrieve a fresh drink from the kitchen.  Keith’s attention was drawn sharply at the same time to the sound of Lance laughing uproariously at something Allura had said.  He sprang up off the floor to drape himself animatedly over Allura’s lap, prompting a laugh out of the rest of the group.  As Pidge rounded the corner with a fresh drink, Lance’s leg shot into their path, effectively cutting Pidge’s legs out from under them and causing them to bump into the sofa and upend their open can of soda right into Keith’s lap.

Keith blinked, still trying to catch up to the situation.

“Jesus Christ, Lance!”

“Shit, sorry!”

Keith looked up just in time to see Lance stripping his t-shirt over his head and dropping to his knees, furiously trying to soak up the Coca-Cola now seeping into Keith’s jeans.  “What the fuck, Lance?!” Keith batted him away from the pointless and frankly suggestive task.  “Your shirt is ruined now.”

“I’m just trying to help!” Lance yelped, looking contrite.

Keith rolled his eyes.  “I _live_ here, stupid.  _I_ have other clothes to wear.”

“It’s alright, Lance,” Shiro inserted diplomatically.  Keith rolled his eyes.  Shiro always acted like the responsible friend when people who didn’t know better were around.  “Keith will lend you a shirt.”

“I will?”

“Why don’t you two go clean up?” Shiro continued, as if Keith hadn’t said a word.  “Hurry, before the pizza gets here.”

“Fine,” Keith said.  “Come on, Lance.”

Lance dutifully followed Keith down the hall, almost as if he hadn’t been to Keith’s bedroom half a dozen times in the past few weeks.  Keith had barely closed the door behind them before Lance turned to him with a grin.  “Told you it didn’t have to be obvious.”

Keith’s brow furrowed, already focused on changing out of his stained jeans.  “What?”

“I bet I can get you off and get both of us presentable in under five minutes,” Lance said casually, his shirt swinging in a wide arc as he spun it on his index finger by the neckline.

“There’s _six_ people sitting on the other side of an inch of drywall,” Keith pointed out, balling up his pants and chucking them toward the laundry basket in the corner.

“I’m just _offering_ ,” Lance said.  “If you want me to owe you one, I owe you one, but I _know_ you left that library with blue-balls, so every second we spend arguing is a second that I’m _not_ sucking your dick under the iron-clad guise of my clumsy ass getting soda all over both of us.”

Keith studied Lance for a moment, trying to process just how much thought Lance was implying he put into thinking about getting Keith off.  “You did not plan that.”

Lance rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, because there’s _another_ way you and I specifically wound up soaked in Coke while Pidge didn’t have a drop on them.”

“There’s no _way_ you plan something like that.”

“I’m a _youngest_ _child_ , Keith,” Lance said emphatically.  “I could get away with _murder_ if I had enough time to think before my Mami gets home.”

“That’s absurd.”

“Boy,” Lance said, steepling his hands together.  “If you don’t want me to blow you, I will take the clean shirt and get out of your damn hair.  Just say so.”

“Of course I _want_ you to blow me,” Keith said, retrieving a worn t-shirt from his closet to offer Lance. “ _But_ it’s.... I can’t.  Not with everyone here.”

“Okay,” Lance said, accepting the shirt from Keith and pulling it over his head. It seemed to fit a little snugger than Lance typically wore his shirts, pulling taut across his broad shoulders, and Keith briefly wondered if that was a blessing or a curse.  “Message received.”

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Of course not,” Lance said earnestly.

Keith pulled a new pair of jeans out of his closet, stepping into them easily.  “Very thoughtful, though.  You’ve only known about my exhibitionist kink for, like, an hour and you’re already catering to it at every opportunity. Not to mention the hair thing.”

“I had an inkling before about the exhibitionist thing,” Lance asked, smiling mischievously.

Keith rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, okay.”

“Besides, it’s wholly selfish,” Lance said.  “Not only did I get off by abusing your semi-public kink, but I know you’re a reciprocal kind of guy and I’m hopefully gonna reap the rewards of that one soon.”

“You think so, huh?”

Lance shrugged, one side of his mouth twisting up into a smile.  “Maybe.”

Keith stepped close so that he could whisper in Lance’s ear. “What color panties are you gonna wear for me?”

Keith was close enough to hear the way the breath hitches in Lance’s chest. “I’ve got a few. Any preference?”

”Red.”

”I can do red.”

Keith allowed the devilish smile building to curl the edges of his mouth. “Can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact about this fic: the entire premise was based around the "studying/research" excuse in this chapter. I think I'm hilarious.
> 
> My apologies for the long wait on this chapter! I've just started a new job and I'm trying to get into a new routine, so hopefully my writing schedule can open up a little more soon.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have this whole thing planned for Keith's birthday, but this chapter had to happen first, so I'm just kind of wedging an extra update in between the space I've been averaging on updates. C'est la vie.

**_Lance_**

_> > are you going to the big halloween party and what are you going as_  
_> > personally i think their pre-halloween bonfire is a better party than Halloween_  
 _ >> but the costume contest is dope_  
 _ >> and im trying to come up with a costume but hunk and i usually go a rad duo costume_  
 _ >> but hes going with pidge as peach and bowser and i don’t want to be luigi again_

_< < i don’t have a costume_

_> > dude halloween is in like two and a half weeks!_  
_> > don’t tell me you’re one of those fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants types_  
 _ >> actually strike that that’s exactly what u are_

_< < ive never been a big halloween person?_

_> > KEITH_  
>> HOLY SHIT  
>> WHAT

_< < i always had better things to do on halloween_

_> > WELL NO MORE_  
_> > HOLD ON TO UR TIDDIES BITCH_  
 _ >> BECAUSE NO ONE DOES HALLOWEEN BETTER THAN LANCE AND HUNK_

_< < ok_

_> > IM GONNA NEED SOME ENTHUSIASM OUT OF U MISTER  
>> I SAY HALLOWEEN YOU SAY PARTY_

_< < halloween party?_

_> > we’ll work on it  
>> first things first: costumes_

 

* * *

 

“Hey, it’s Keith, right?”

Keith drew his attention away from his laptop, where he’d been disinterestedly scanning a journal publication for something _interesting_ to add to this paragraph up to the two young women who had apparently decided to take notice of the introverted English major sitting in the corner of the student union.

“Yeah. You’re Rachel,” Keith said, responding with the only thing he really knew about this situation.

“You remembered,” Rachel smiled, apparently taking Keith’s recognition as an invitation to slide into the empty bench across from Keith. He dropped his feet to the ground to make room for her, boots thunking against the tile beneath the table. 

“Guess so.”

“This is Veronica,” Rachel offered, and Keith glanced quickly toward the stranger who had accompanied Rachel to Keith’s particular booth. The family resemblance was strong, even if Veronica’s features were a bit more severe. Her hair was trimmed into a bob, her bangs parted in the middle around the edge of her rectangular glasses, but she was unquestionably Lance’s sister.  “You don’t mind if we sit with you, do you? It’s super packed in here.”

Keith nodded, sitting up a little straighter, despite the fact that it wasn’t strictly necessary. It just seemed polite. “Sure.”

Rachel beamed, tossing her long curls behind her as she uncovered her salad. Veronica slid into the booth beside her sister, unwrapping her own lunch.  “What are you working on, Keith?”

“A paper for my critical theory class,” Keith replied.

“Are you a lit major?”

Keith nodded.

“I had an English minor in undergrad,” Veronica said.  “Who’s your advisor?”

“Professor Regris,” Keith said.

“He was always my favorite,” Veronica said.

“What’s your major, if you were only a lit minor?”

“Computer science,” Veronica said.

“Neat.  What about you, Rachel?”

“Sports medicine.”

“Oh right, you’re in Shiro’s class,” Keith said.  “He said you’re his favorite, by the way.”

“What?! No way, tell me exactly what he said – his words, please,” Rachel said, pushing up the sleeves of her pale pink sweater.

Keith smiled, sitting back in his seat.  “Lance was over the other night and Shiro realized you were his sister.  He said you were his favorite student and you’re possibly the only one who has never once made him want to pull his hair out.”

Rachel beamed, letting out an excited squeal.  “Yay! My plan is going perfectly!”

“You’re Shiro’s roommate?” Veronica asked, glancing between Rachel and Keith.  “I haven’t seen The  Commando in _ages_.  We used to hang out all the time in undergrad.”

Keith lifted a brow at Veronica.  “Please _god_ tell me there is a story behind that nickname.”

Veronica smiled coyly, lifting her coffee to her lips before answering.  “It may or may not be related to the Theta Phi Kappa Halloween party my Sophomore year.  I think Shiro must have been a junior?  Anyway, the whole frat dressed in Star Trek uniforms, and Shiro was Commander Spock.  At some point, one of the guys got _super_ blasted and was going around pantsing everyone and for _whatever reason_ everyone in the vicinity got an eyeful of Shiro’s dick.  For the _rest_ of the party everyone was calling him ‘The Commando’.  For obvious reasons.”

Keith let his head drop back as he laughed.  “That is one I have not heard, oh my god.  I can’t believe Matt and Adam wouldn’t have told me.”

“They probably don’t know,” Veronica said.  “Matt wasn’t at the party and Adam was on his semester abroad.  I think Shiro was dating that Swedish guy at the time?”

“This is gold,” Keith said, voice tinged with astonished reverence.  “Thank you so much for this gift.”

Veronica smiled.  “Tell The Commando that Ronnie says hi.”

“I will absolutely do that,” Keith said, nodding.  “I think he’s planning to go to the big bonfire the frat is hosting this weekend, if you wanted to catch up with him.”

“Ronnie, you _gotta_ come,” Rachel said, bumping her elbow against her sister’s arm.  “Leandro and I are going.  We’ll chat up Shiro and I’ll enact my next step in becoming BFF’s with him.  Bonus points because my siblings are A – an old friend, and B – the weird friend of his cool roommate.”

“We’ll see, Chel,” Veronica said non-committaly.

“And if you have more stories about Shiro, please feel free to share those with me at any time,” Keith said.

“Deal,” Veronica said.

Rachel popped a crouton in her mouth.  “I still think you’re _way_ too cool to be friends with our brother,” she said.  “Please tell me how he went from ‘grr, Keith, that guy’s my rival’ to ‘hey this is my friend Keith and I’m never going to stop talking about him’.”

“He talks about me?”

Veronica rolled her eyes.  “Constantly.”

Keith’s eyebrows furrowed.  “Weird.”

“Well, it is Lance.”

“Point.”

“For real, though, like, what happened?”

Keith shrugged.  “We just cleared the air.  Healthier work and class environment, I guess?”

Rachel and Veronica shared a look that Keith couldn’t read, and then Rachel straightened her shoulders and took a sip of her water.  “That’s… mature of you.”

Keith lifted a brow and the girls shared another look.  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Keith,” Veronica said, folding her hands on the table.  “We’re really just curious about it, because Lance is a very stubborn person.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Keith said, shrugging again.  “Obviously I don’t know Lance as well as you do, but he was the one who offered the clean slate.”

“That’s a very big gesture coming from Lance,” Veronica observed.

“It’s a big gesture from anyone,” Keith said.  “I’m glad we were able to put it behind us.”

“Good,” Rachel said resolutely.  “I hope having a friend as cool as you inspires Lancito to step up his game.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“And if he decides to be a dick, don’t hesitate to tell on him to his big sisters,” Veronica said.

“You know we’re just friends, right?”

Rachel and Veronica didn’t look at each other, but Keith watched their mirroring expressions lift one eyebrow.  “We know,” Rachel said.

“Offer still stands,” Veronica said.  “Shiro would do the same for Lance, I’m sure.”

Keith chuckled.  “Yeah, you got a point.”

 

* * *

 

 

Keith’s second frat party was not as difficult a sell as the first one.  Shiro mentioned it, and Lance specifically invited him, and Keith wound up planning it into his schedule.  He told himself he’d always liked bonfires, but the attempts at rationalization didn’t stop the fidgeting of his right hand, thumb and middle finger sliding together in a quick rhythm.  Keith showed up with Shiro and Adam, mostly ignoring the jabs Shiro was tossing his way about how he’d been so chill recently.  “It’s almost like you’re a whole ‘nother person without the stick up your ass,” Shiro said.

“I’ll beat you with a stick,” Keith muttered, crossing his arms in a last-ditch attempt to hide his restless hand.  The stucco pattern was hidden against his chest, but it didn’t still his traitorous fingers.

“Tell him where he can stick his stick, Adam.”

“Throw it and we’ll see how well Shiro can fetch.”

Keith rolled his eyes.  “I don’t know either of you and I came here alone.”

Keith walked away before Shiro could get another word in, disappearing into the crowd before he could think better of abandoning the safety net of familiar company.  He edged his way through the crowded house for a good few minutes, weaving around people all dancing to the beat of a Britney Spears song Keith might have recognized if he tried hard enough.

A hand latched onto Keith’s wrist and pulled him away from the bulk of the crowd.  Keith was briefly startled, but when he caught sight of the mop of sandy blond hair attached to the slight figure of his captor, he relaxed easily.  Pidge was welcome company.

Pidge released him in the safety of the dining room – a relatively quiet area with a few coolers lined up on the long table – and stared him down with a strangely knowing look.

Maybe Pidge wasn’t welcome company.

“Are you here with Lance?”

Keith shook his head.  “I came with Shiro and Adam?”

Pidge arched a brow skeptically.  “You sure?”

“Pretty sure? I literally just got here.  I haven’t even seen Lance since work yesterday.”

“You two have been acting pretty chummy recently,” Pidge said.  “You got a crush on him or something?”

Oh god.  Oh no.  Oh god.  Keith swallowed, trying not to make his nervousness obvious.  His fingers were moving at light speed.  “You and I are ‘chummy’ too,” Keith said, dodging the accusation.  “It takes me a while to make friends.”

“Yeah, but I’m a friend you want to play video games with,” Pidge said.  “Whereas you want to bone Lance.”

Keith averted his gaze, gritting his jaw as he tried vainly to stop the flush rising to his face.

“No— you _already_ boned him!” Pidge gasped in declaration, their eyes widening.

“What?” Keith snapped, a burst of terror shooting through him. “How’d you know?”

“I didn’t,” Pidge replied, their previously shocked expression fading quickly into a shit-eating grin. Keith realized too late that he’d been played.  “You just told me.”

“But— you said— what?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Pidge said, picking casually at their short fingernails. “I’ve been pretty sure for a while that the two of you were fucking. I just had to confirm my suspicions.”

“How could you possibly have figured that out?”

Pidge snorted, their eyes flicking into a roll. “You mean besides the fact that you’re _obvious_? Yeah, it was that ‘studying’ line you both ran when you showed up late on movie night. It was uncoordinated enough that it was the truth but the only class you idiots have together is gender and _sexuality_ , and I would have known if there was an actual project due. So, you basically gave yourselves away.”

“I’m never telling you anything ever again.”

“Bullshit, but I understand why you’re freaking out,” Pidge said. “Let me guess: you and Lance had sex one time, agreed to keep it a secret, but then didn’t stop at once.  And now you’re starting to catch feelings but you like getting laid too much to call it off and you’re too prideful to just officially ask him out.”

“I’m literally not telling you anything else, Pidge.”

“Come _on_ , Keith, just tell him you like him.”

“Pidge, we have _rules._ I can’t just throw them out the window because I don’t like them anymore.”

“Rules?” Pidge asked, their eyebrows going sky-high.  “What kind of rules?”

“I already said i’m not telling you anything else,” Keith said, but he already knew it was basically a lost cause. Pidge was too persistent to dodge for long, and they already had more information than was necessary to essentially blackmail Keith into giving them any information they wanted.

“Keith, you’re practically bursting to get this off your chest,” Pidge said flatly. “Just tell me.”

Keith sighed, glancing toward the entrance to the dining room.  “We’ve been sleeping together for, like, a month?  And our rules are the standard, like, no strings, strictly friends-with-benefits thing.  We’re not interested in a romantic relationship.  It’s just sex.”

Pidge’s lip curled in a disgusted sneer.  “Sure it is.”

“It _is_ ,” Keith insisted.  “And it’s also supposed to be a secret, so don’t tell _anyone_.  Including Lance.”

Pidge rolled their eyes.  “The sex must be really good if you’re gonna act like this big a moron for it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith asked, suddenly feeling a bit defensive.

Pidge shook their head.  “You know what, dude? If you don’t know, I’ll let you figure it out yourself.  Who knows? Maybe I’m wrong.”

The look on Pidge’s face clearly stated they believed that they were never wrong.

“I need a fucking drink,” Keith muttered.

Pidge glanced at the saloon style doors behind them.  “Well, we’ve got the kitchen right here, so you’re in luck.  Drinks ahoy.”  Pidge shoved through the swinging doors and Keith followed, desperate to get his hands on a cold beer.

“Hey, there you are!” Shiro exclaimed.  “I didn’t think you’d actually leave.  God, I was just teasing.”

“You’re an ass,” Keith said flatly.

“KEITH!”

Keith’s attention snapped toward the source of his name – a grinning Lance with a red, plastic cup dangling between two fingers.  Behind him stood Rachel, Veronica, and Adam; the latter two wholly engaged in small talk.  Lance waved a hand – the one holding the cup – and Keith was struck by the sour thought that Lance’s hands would never betray him the way Keith’s currently were.  The slide of thumb and middle finger was beginning to numb, casting a strange sensation with every brush of the two appendages.  It was brought on by too many people in too much unfamiliar territory, even though Keith knew everyone in the room.  Keith’s kryptonite was the same element in which Lance flourished.

“Keith, you’re here!” Lance was exclaiming, waving his cup in the air with rock-steady hands, despite the healthy flush of inebriation across his freckled cheeks.

“You only asked like thirty-eight times if I was coming tonight,” Keith said.

Lance shrugged.  “You’re a pretty stubborn guy, Keith.  Maybe you changed your mind.  I dunno.”

“You want a drink, Keith?” Rachel asked.

“Sure,” Keith agreed.

“Get the kid a drink, Commando,” Veronica ordered, and Keith was gifted with the sight of Shiro’s face lighting up as red as a traffic light.  He obeyed, handing Keith a beer from the cooler he was sitting on.

“Takashi, I’m personally offended that I was never told the Commando story,” Adam said, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s waist.  “I’m going to need a private reenactment later.”

“Ugh,” Keith muttered.  With the beer in his hand, his foot had started tapping.  The finger thing was a lesser evil.  He drained the can in one go and crushed the empty can in his hand before tossing it toward the bin already overflowing with cans and bottles.

“Hey, Keith, let’s go out to the bonfire,” Lance said, grabbing Keith’s hand in his own.  “I think I saw a fresh bottle of Fireball out there.”

“Yes, get me out of here before someone starts talking about Shiro’s dick again,” Keith said, avoiding the look he could feel Pidge burning through the side of his face.

Lance pulled him from the room, and it was not lost on Keith how his fingers were stilled in their anxious rhythm by Lance’s hand in his.  No other random body parts started compulsively moving.  Keith tried to ignore the fluttering in his chest.

“You okay?” Lance asked.

“Fine?”

“You were doing the thing,” Lance said.

“What thing?”

“Finger thing,” Lance said, squeezing Keith’s hand where it was still entwined with Lance’s own.  “You stim when you’re anxious.”

“You noticed that?” Keith asked.

Lance shrugged.  “I do it too.  Not the fingers, but stimming.  I’m a tapper.  I know you’ve noticed.”

Keith hummed, recalling Lance’s absent tapping against the desk behind him in class.  “Huh.”

“Do you wanna dance?” Lance asked.

“Still don’t dance,” Keith said.

Lance rolled his eyes.  “I’ll _teach you_ , dummy.”

“Not right now,” Keith said.

“Good call,” Lance said, nodding.  “Need a few more drinks in you before you get footloose, right?”

“Something like that.”

Lance found an unopened bottle of Fireball to crack open and took a swig straight from the bottle before handing it to Keith.  “There’s no cups, but we can share,” Lance said, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.  Keith accepted the bottle and took a healthy gulp, receiving a wide smile from Lance, lit warm and orange in the flickering light of the bonfire. 

Lance’s chin landed firmly on Keith’s shoulder, the sharp bone digging into the tender skin behind Keith’s collarbone.  “Ow,” Keith said absently.

“’M glad you came,” Lance mumbled.  “Didn’t wanna hang out with my sisters all night.”

“Don’t you know, like, everyone in this house?”

Lance shrugged lazily, his forehead bumping against Keith’s ear as his head rolled to the side.  “They’re not as fun to hang out with as you.”

Keith’s heart skipped a beat in his chest, and he took another drink from the bottle before Lance tugged it away.  “Gotta share, Keefy-boy,” Lance said, waggling his eyebrows.  Keith took a deep breath and pretended to have his attention drawn away from the line of Lance’s throat as he drank by the crackling bonfire in front of them.

The fire was bright and blazing and not surrounded by nearly as many people as Keith had expected.  Most of them seemed to have gravitated inside toward the speaker system, or lingered on the deck above them.  Lance and Keith stood on the edge of the circle, Lance chatting pleasantly with two of the girls seated nearby.  There was chatter around the bonfire, people leaning in close to be heard by one another over the music, and one couple full-on making out on the far side of the circle.  An Amy Winehouse song began playing, a strangely familiar selection to Keith, who couldn’t recall recognizing a single song at the last party.  People seemed to be enjoying it, bodies swaying back and forth to the beat and a few mouths moving to the lyrics.

Keith chanced another glance toward Lance and caught sight of his companion dancing as well – blue eyes shut and a smile on his face as he sang along.  It was… mesmerizing.

He knew he shouldn’t be staring – knew that Pidge had already read them like a book and that if there was any place where their sexy little secret risked being exposed by a misplaced look or touch, it was here, surrounded by drunk, gossiping classmates — but god _damn_ , it should really be illegal to look as good as Lance did tonight, bronze skin glowing in the light of the bonfire and warmed by the whiskey he'd consumed. Lance’s hips swayed back and forth, his feet moving along the ground so smoothly it almost looked like he was floating. He looked so free and comfortable in his own skin and for a brief moment Keith wondered if he wanted to fuck him or wanted to _be_ him – just for the sensation of being that comfortable for once in his life. Then Lance lifted his arms, moving them rhythmically above his head and baring a hint of midriff in the process and Keith was launched back into his own body, bringing up a hand to wipe the corner of his mouth just in case he was drooling.

One of the girls sitting nearby said something Keith didn’t quite catch, and Lance laughed, the action throwing off his balance briefly and without thinking, Keith caught him.  Lance winked at him, threading his fingers around Keith’s where they gripped the whiskey bottle and bringing the whole thing to his lips for another drink.

Maybe it was the way the firelight danced across the sharp angles of Lance’s face, casting otherworldly shadows across his face while still illuminating him in soft, warm light that made Keith’s chest grow a little tighter.  Maybe it was the way Lance swayed gently in time with the music, his sense of rhythm apparently unaffected where his balance was so thrown off that endeared Keith to him just that much more.  Maybe it was the whiskey hitting Keith’s brain right where the Bad Decision Goblin lived that made him want to lean in for a taste of Lance’s soft and now certainly cinnamon-whiskey flavored lips – secrets be damned.

He didn’t get much further than the desire to lean in and kiss the soft smile off of Lance’s lips when the song changed and Lance’s eyes lit up, his whole body perking up in attention. “This is my _song_ , Keith!” Lance exclaimed, and Keith’s brows furrowed as he took a moment to place the song.  Lance didn’t waste a moment getting into the groove of the song, though, and all Keith could do was stare.

 _Shawty had them apple bottom jeans_  
_Boots with the fur_  
 _The whole club was lookin’ at her_

If before Lance’s dancing had been free and light, now it was hot and heavy, hips grinding and hands sliding provocatively down the lengths of his body.

_She hit the floor_   
_Next thing you know_   
_Shawty got low, low, low, low, low_

Listen. Keith liked teasing Lance about his ass being flat, but watching Lance drop into a practiced twerk on “low” was not something Keith thought he could ever take issue with. Besides the issue of Keith’s jeans suddenly becoming _way_ too tight.

Lance was going to be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance dancing to "Low" is Keith's new religion, thank you for coming to my TED talk.


	13. Chapter 13

“So they just fuck up character creators as horribly as possible and then play the games with their grotesque creations?”

“Yeah.  Think ‘Frankenstein’ if Mary Shelley had been a millennial.  And just, like, an atrociously chaotic neutral entity.”

_“Daddy like a pretty baby!”_

Keith snorted as the narrators of the video took their “pretty baby” bit down a rabbit hole.  “I can see why you enjoy it.”

“Was that a dig on me, Keith, because I keep telling you that I don’t have a daddy kink.”

“Yes you do,” Keith said.  “You’d also let that fucked up lady dom you.”

“Final Pam is the pinnacle of creation, Keith,” Lance said with a laugh.  “She is the judge, the jury, and the executioner.”

“She’s terrifying.”

“That too,” Lance agreed with a nod.  “Just wait until she gets her outfit upgrade, though.  And her ghost sons.  And the coffee can sons.  And Metal Husband.  And _Roachie_ , oh my god, you’re gonna love Roachie, Keith.”

“How long is this video?”

“Uh, like twenty minutes,” Lance said.  “But there are three Final Pam videos total.  And then dozens of Monster Factories from other games.”

“Holy shit.”

“We don’t have to watch any more if you don’t want,” Lance said.

“We started this and I have to see it through,” Keith said.  “I want to see them break _Fallout_.”

“And see them break _Fallout_ you shall,” Lance laughed.  “I’ll make some popcorn for the journey.”

It was one of those rare Sundays when neither Lance nor Keith was itching for a lay, and after growing bored of football, they’d started down the rabbit hole of watching funny YouTube videos.  Vine comps had eventually led to Lance realizing that Keith had never heard or seen any McElroy brother content (even though Keith insisted he had _heard of_ them), and after a few highlight clips as introduction, Lance had pulled up a Monster Factory video.

Watching Lance laugh at this stupid, hilarious video, Keith couldn’t get the idea of gestures out of his head.

He had always tended to overthink any little interaction he had with other people, but the one he’d had with Lance’s sisters was one he couldn’t get out of his head.  He hadn’t thought twice about he and Lance “resetting” their friendship because from Keith’s perspective, there hadn’t _been_ a friendship before that.  It hadn’t mattered an ounce to Keith, but it mattered to _Lance_ , and that was something Keith was only just beginning to realize.  If Lance’s sisters thought it was an out-of-character gesture, it must have taken a lot of humble pie for Lance to willingly forgive Keith so easily.

Lance had stepped out of his comfort zone – he’d made a gesture – and as a result, he and Keith were now friends.

Lance had actually made a lot of gestures for Keith, actually.

And what had Keith done in return?

He’d been desperately trying not to catch feelings, that’s what.  He’d been keeping Lance at arm’s length because if he showed his hand, Lance would think Keith was angling for something more out of this relationship.  But if Lance could make big gestures and keep emotions separate, then why couldn’t Keith?

That was really the main reason why Keith didn’t argue with Lance’s sudden incorporation of Keith in all of his Halloween plans.  It meant something to Lance, and if he wanted Keith to be involved, then Keith would be damned if he wouldn’t try to make his friend happy.

Yeah okay, if Keith was really,  _really_ honest with himself, maybe the “friend” ship had kind of sailed but Keith was determined not to fuck this up any further than he already had. He still wanted Lance to know he wasn’t being taken for granted.  Even if Keith’s reasons for wanting to make Lance happy were more or less selfish.

It wasn’t the end of the world to want to see Lance smile, was it?

 

* * *

 

There was a knock on Keith’s apartment door.

Keith looked up from the study notes he’d spread out across the coffee table, brow furrowing as he tried to figure out who would be looking for him on a Monday.  A glance at the clock told Keith it was barely five pm, which meant it was two hours early to be Lance.  He pushed himself up off the floor and headed across his apartment.  Keith swung the door open to see his mother standing in the hallway, waiting for him with a smile.  Oh.  Right.  Today was the twenty-second.

It wasn’t that Keith had _forgotten_ his mother was coming to town, it was just that he’d forgotten that she was coming _today_.  And by that, Keith meant that he had lost track of just how late in October they had gotten and _maybe_ he had accidentally Pavloved himself into getting a bit one-track-minded on Mondays.  Not that it mattered, because it wasn’t like his mom was super high maintenance, and she knew coming during the week meant that Keith couldn’t dedicate all his time to her.  He only felt a little guilty about not being entirely prepared for her arrival.

He still grinned when he saw her; one hip cocked in her worn-out jeans, her overnight bag slung over her shoulder, the sleeves of her sweatshirt pushed up to her elbows.  Keith’s mom had never really been like the mom that movies portrayed; she was more sharp angles than soft curves.  She was the genetic source of Keith’s Resting Bitch Face and no one had once questioned the idea that their sharp tongues, slight frames, and wispy black hair were not familial traits.  Keith definitely missed his dad, but his mother loved him more than life itself, and was all Keith could have ever asked for. 

“Happy birthday, Mom.”

Krolia stepped into the apartment just far enough to wrap Keith in a tight hug.  “Happy early birthday, Keith,” she replied, pressing a kiss to his temple as she pulled away.  “How is your semester going?”

“It’s good,” Keith said.  He took his mother’s bag off her hands and sat it down beside the sofa, taking a moment to straighten up his notes.  “Busy, but good.”

“You always prefer to stay occupied, don’t you?” Krolia said.  “You never knew what to do with yourself when you had time on your hands.”

“You want something to drink, Mom?” Keith asked.  “Shiro got this new tea that smells like peach pie.”

“I’m actually a bit hungry,” Krolia said.  “Do you want to get dinner now, or wait a little longer?”

“We could go now, and get dessert to bring home for the movie,” Keith suggested.

Krolia smiled, putting her hand around the back of Keith’s head and kissing his forehead.  “That’s my boy.”

 

Looking at his mom wasn’t quite the same as looking in a mirror, but if Keith tried hard enough, he could pretty accurately estimate what he himself would look like in twenty years. Krolia’s features were familiar but older, wrinkles around the eyes and graying at the temples.  Her hair was as dark as Keith’s, but a few strands of silver had recently begun to thread themselves through like stars streaming through the night sky. Her figure was slight, and one might think she were fragile if they hadn’t seen her hauling laundry up and down stairs, pushing the old, cantankerous lawn mower every weekend, or even carrying Keith himself on her hip well into his school years.  Keith knew better though.  His mom had been self-sufficient longer than Keith had been alive, and that hadn’t changed one mite over the years.  He liked to think his independent streak came from her. He knew for a _fact_ that his stubborn streak did.

Over dinner they chatted about innocent things – filling in the gaps that texting and occasional phone calls left in their day-to-day.  Keith provided anecdotes about his friends, trying to keep it neutral enough that Krolia wouldn’t recognize them all being about one friend in particular.  Krolia listened attentively, happy to hear her son so enthusiastic.  After they’d eaten, they picked out their favorite pie – a Cinnamon Apple Cheesecake – to take home to the apartment with them.

When they got back from the restaurant, bellies full and chests light, Keith took a moment to throw a load of laundry in to wash.  After hauling himself back up the stairs from the basement, he registered the sound of voices coming from his apartment.  Making his way inside, he quickly deduced the situation at hand, but it didn’t make the sight of Lance and Krolia sitting together on Keith’s sofa any less surprising.  Lance glanced up at Keith’s entrance, his face lit up in obvious delight.  “Keith! You didn’t tell me your mom was coming to visit!”

“Sorry, I forgot to text you,” Keith said, trying to put his full apology into the look he gave Lance.  Lance didn’t look too broken up about the change to their usual Monday night arrangement, which was comforting.  What was _not_ comforting was the way Lance looked like he had immediately taken to Krolia.  Those two teaming up could prove dangerous to Keith’s dignity.

“If you two had other plans, you’re more than welcome to pretend I’m not here,” Krolia offered.  Keith and Lance exchanged A Look and Keith quickly shook his head.

“Of course not, Mom,” he said.  “You’re only here for one night.  We got birthday pie, remember?”

“Is it your birthday, Krolia?” Lance asked politely, a bright grin still plastered across his face. “I think it’s great that you get to spend it with Keith!”

Krolia nodded.  “Keith and I always celebrate our birthdays together,” she replied.  “It’s a slow payback system in return for me spending my entire nineteenth birthday in labor only to have him pop his head out nine minutes after midnight.”

“Wait.”  Lance’s head whipped toward Keith.  “Does that mean your birthday is tomorrow?”

Keith nodded reluctantly, knowing Lance well enough to know he was about to blow this thing _way_ out of proportion.

“What the hell?!” Lance shrieked, leaping off the sofa to wave his arms in the air.  “Keith! How could you keep this a secret from me!”

“It’s not a big deal,” Keith said, rolling his eyes.  “I only ever celebrate with my mom, anyway.”

“Not a big deal, he says,” Lance said mockingly, turning toward Krolia.  “Back me up, Momma K.  Keith _definitely_ should have told me that his birthday was coming up, right?”

“You didn’t _ask_ ,” Keith pointed out.  “I don’t know when your birthday is, either.”

“I have a summer birthday, which means I start dropping hints the week after Easter,” Lance said, like this was an obvious thing.  “You didn’t say a _word_.  You let me plan for Halloween without telling me your _birthday_ was a week before it!  I should have been planning for _that_!!”

“Like I said,” Keith said calmly.  “It isn’t a big deal.”

“It’s his golden birthday,” Krolia said, her expression straight-faced even as her gaze landed on her son with mischief sparkling in her eyes.  “Twenty-three on the twenty-third.”

Lance’s jaw dropped open, his wide-eyed gaze turning on Keith.  “ _You. Lying. Little. Bitch.”_

“Lance, please,” Keith sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.  He could practically hear his mom’s obvious amusement, even though she had yet to crack a smile.  “Mom, look what you did.  You got Lance started.”

“I think it’s nice that your friend cares so much about you, Keith,” Krolia said, traitorously.  She turned toward Lance with a small smile that only Keith recognized as something highly dangerous.  “Lance, would you like to stay to have pie and celebrate with us?”

“Oh god, I couldn’t impose myself on your celebration,” Lance said.

“It’s not an imposition,” Keith said truthfully.

“Really,” Krolia agreed, nodding.  “I always love getting to know Keith’s friends.”

“I love getting to know my friends’ _parents_ ,” Lance returned, dropping back onto the sofa beside Krolia.  “Please tell me everything about Keith as a baby, up to and including potty training stories.”

“Don’t,” Keith warned.

“Oh my god, was he a chubby baby?” Lance continued, ignoring Keith’s exasperated tone.  He had a shit-eating grin plastered across his face and it was so stupidly attractive that Keith couldn’t decide if he wanted to punch it off Lance’s face or kiss him until he forgot how to say anything except Keith’s name. Not that Keith could really do either of those with his mother right there. “He was a chubby baby, wasn’t he?  I can _see_ him with those fat little baby cheeks.”

Krolia smiled and Keith knew he was fucked.  “Keith was a very chubby baby.  He stayed in the 99th weight percentile for his age until he was almost four.  Do you want to see pictures?”

“Krolia, I would love nothing more in this life than to see Keith’s baby pictures.”

“Mom, _please_.”

“Krolia, I’m _begging_ you.”

“Just a few, Keith, I promise.”

“ _MOM!”_

 

Keith was right in his assumption that Lance and Krolia would make a dangerous team.  After Krolia had dragged Keith’s reputation through the mud with every baby picture she had ever scanned into her cloud storage, and Lance had laughed himself to tears taking in every single one, Keith finally bribed them into putting away the embarrassing childhood pictures by pulling out the cheesecake and putting in “The Princess Bride”.  It was the movie Keith and Krolia watched every year during their birthday celebration, as it had been Keith’s dad’s favorite movie and they both considered it an homage to his memory.  It was more of a comforting presence than a focus point, so even though Keith had convinced them to put away the pictures, they still mostly talked over the movie while they ate their cheesecake.  Lance’s presence was an odd addition to Keith and Krolia’s tradition, but Keith felt it was a good addition.  He’d never seen his mom quite so delighted by one of his friends, and Lance was happy to tell Krolia anything she asked about.

Keith couldn’t stop smiling.

Once Lance finally yawned wide enough and begged off to go back to his dorm and sleep, Keith pulled the spare linens out of the hall closet and made up the pull-out bed.  “Are you sure you don’t want my bed, Mom?”

“I’m sure,” Krolia promised.  “A good night’s rest is important.  You’ve got class in the morning.”

“I don’t mind the pull-out bed,” Keith said.

“I don’t either,” Krolia said.  “Go.  I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”

Keith kissed his mother on the cheek and headed for his bedroom.  It wasn’t quite the hour Keith usually went to sleep, but he knew Krolia slept earlier than he did, so he didn’t mind resigning to his room to chill and let her sleep.

Besides.  Keith had a gesture in mind.

 

* * *

 

**_Lance_ **

_< <  sorry I forgot to tell you my mom was in town  
<< I forgot it was this week and then once she was here I just didn’t think to cancel with you_

_> > keith. my man. don’t even apologize bcs your mom is the coolest_

_< < I just know you were expecting something else _

_> > like i’ve said before: getting in your pants is a nice perk, not a priority  
>> tho I won’t argue if you feel like you want to make it up to me later ;)_

_< < well I didn’t want to leave you with blue balls so  
<< [Attachment: One Image]_

Keith closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and hit the send button before he could overthink it.  His eyes quickly reopened as the watched the loading bar tell him his image was sending, and stared at the bottom of the screen, watching for the read receipt telling him Lance had seen it.

As he was waiting, he ghosted his palm over his cock, still hard despite the nervous atmosphere Keith had created in his bedroom.  He’d spent the last fifteen minutes trying to take a picture of himself that didn’t look like he was trying too hard.  He _was_ trying too hard, but he didn’t want to look like it.  And despite the fact that Keith hated taking pictures of himself and definitely hated how much his every flaw was on display, the whole situation had his veins thrumming with arousal and terror and had Keith thinking that he should have never acknowledged his exhibition kink.

_Read: 1:28am_

Keith swallowed hard, suddenly unable to watch and see if Lance was typing. He laid his phone screen-down on his chest, listening to the pounding of his own heart in his chest. _God what the fuck am I doing? This is so stupid_.

Keith’s phone buzzed twice, informing him of his new notification. And then again. And again.

 _> > HSFSADJFK KEITH_  
>> WARN A GUY NEXT TIME  
>> I almost just fucking passed out when all the blood rushed from my head straight to my d i c k jesus christ

_< < sorry_

_> > do NOT apologize keith_  
>> holy shit  
>> holy SHIT

_< < i sent you the one good one out of, like, thirty  
<< it was way more effort than i expected_

_> > i don’t believe you only managed ONE good one and i am going to need to see the other 29 as evidence_

_< < people really like doing this shit?_

_> > some people  
>> ur an exhibitionist don’t u get off on this risky nude photo business?_

_< < i mean there’s def a thrill factor I guess  
<< but i’ve never been so paranoid of my mom walking in in my life_

_> > yikes mom walking in is bad_

_< < at least she knocks_  
<< shiro has literally just walked in when im jacking off before  
<< he’d never let me hear the end of it if he caught me taking dick pics

_> > shiro seems like the kind of guy who has DEF done nudes before so he can’t even judge you  
>> he could get into cam work imo ppl would pay out the nose to see him come all over those ABS _

_< < really intrigued by how my first foray into sexting has turned into a conversation about how sexy my roommate is_

_> > SORRY SORRY  
>> U KNOW I THINK HES PRETTY_

_< < yeah I know _

_> > don’t worry keith  
>> i’d lick cum off ur abs in a heartbeat _

_< < [Attachment: One Image]_

_> > keith_

_< < yeah?_

Keith’s phone suddenly displayed a full-screen picture of Lance, the slight vibration indication Keith was being called.  Keith quickly accepted the call.  “What?”

 _“I can’t type left handed,_ ” Lance said from the other end of the line, his voice low in Keith’s ear.  _“Fuck, Keith.”_

“Are you jerking off?”

 _“Duh,”_ Lance laughed breathlessly.  _“Damn sugar-tits, what kind of reverse gift-giving is this? I get nudes on_ your _birthday?”_

“Like I said,” Keith said, keeping his voice quiet so it wouldn’t travel through the apartment.  “I didn’t want to leave you with blue balls.”

 _“I’m not arguing with this form of apology_ ,” Lance said.  _“God, Keith.”_

“You can’t really talk to me and jack it to my pictures, though,” Keith said, letting his hand stray back to his cock.  He could hear Lance’s labored breathing through the phone and could picture him in his mind’s eye, spread out on his bed in his dorm room, jeans off, hand in his boxers.

 _“Headphones are a glorious invention, Keith,”_ Lance said, and _oh_ , if Keith didn’t like the way his name came off Lance’s lips.  _“Are you still hard?”_

“Yeah.”

_“Are you touching yourself?”_

“A little.”

 _“I know your mom’s in the living room, but I just want to hear you get off_ ,” Lance said.

Keith let out a tiny hum, tightening his grip around his erection and starting to stroke it in earnest. 

 _“Mm-Keith,”_ Lance groaned, and if he listened carefully, Keith could hear the quiet slap of Lance’s hand moving.  _“God.”_

Keith’s breath hitched in his chest as he traced his fingers around the head of his cock.

 _“Your cock is so pretty_ ,” Lance said.  _“I wanna lick it.”_

Keith snorted, letting his hand wrap back around the base of his shaft so he could settle into an easy rhythm.  “You want to lick it.”

Lance let out a sound that was somewhere between a hum of agreement and a moan.  _“I’d do pretty much anything for that cock, honestly._ ”

“Anything is a pretty strong word.”

 _“I have had_ dreams _about your cock, Keith_ ,” Lance said, and Keith could tell by the nice tone of breathiness to his voice that he was getting really into this.  _“Good, good dreams.”_

Keith chuckled softly.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been thinking about bottoming for me.”

_“Did I say that?”_

“Sometimes dreams are too idealized to ever become a reality,” Keith said.  “So just because you dream about it, doesn’t mean it’s the end-all-be-all of your existence.  Sometimes… it’s just a dick.”

 _“God, don’t get all philosophical while we’re jerking it, Keith,”_ Lance sassed.  _“It ain’t deep.  Well, in the dream it was.”_

“What?”

 _“Never mind,”_ Lance said.  _“Shit—I’m getting close.”_

“Already?”

 _“Jesus, Keith, don’t start_.”

“I’m not, I just—” Keith’s toes curled, his words sticking in his throat momentarily.  “M-me too.”

 _“You gonna come for me, baby?”_ Lance asked, his voice lowering as it tended to when he approached orgasm.  _“You gonna come all over those pretty abs for me?”_

Keith bit his lip, too focused on chasing his finish to respond to the teasing.  “Mmn, shit,” Keith whispered as he tugged furiously on his cock.  “Shit.”

 _“Hnn, fuck, Keith,”_ Lance panted.  Keith could hear the definitive slap of skin on skin coming from that end of the line.  _“Say my name? Please?”_

Keith was already obliging, moaning Lance’s name low into the phone.  “Lance, _god_ , Lance—”

Lance’s breath cut out, and Keith could practically see his climax – Lance’s belly dipping inward as his chest arched up, his pretty lips open in a silent O.  It didn’t take anything beyond that image in his mind to send Keith over the edge, releasing across his bare stomach as he stroked himself through the orgasm.

 _“Holy shit, babe,”_ Lance laughed a moment later.  _“Was it good for you, too?”_

Keith hummed in agreement.  “Yeah.”

_“You didn’t wake your mom up, did you?”_

“Oh fuck,” Keith muttered, sitting up quickly and glancing toward the door.  From what he could see, the crack beneath the door was still dark, and the rest of the apartment still silent, so he let his shoulders relax a bit.  “I don’t think so.”

 _“Good,_ ” Lance said.  _“Keith?”_

“Yeah?”

_“I’m making that second picture my wallpaper.”_

“Sure you are, Lance.”

_“I’ll see you in the morning?”_

“Yep.”

_“Good night.”_

“Night, Lance.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll give you three guesses what Lance's birthday present to Keith is lmfao

Keith took his usual seat in the front row for Professor Smythe’s class the next morning, but as time ticked closer to the start of class, the double desk behind him remained strangely empty with no sign of either Pidge or Lance.

Five minutes to the start of class, Lance dashed in the door and fell into the seat beside Keith.  He looked tired, but he was grinning.  “Happy birthday!” he exclaimed, sliding a carefully wrapped package across the desk toward Keith.  “There are no good stores open at two am,” Lance said, by way of explanation.  “So I had to improvise.”

Keith blinked at the gift in front of him, but curiosity quickly won out.  He slid his finger under the edge of the wrap, peeling away the paper and opening the box to reveal a plush, knit scarf inside.  “You made this?” Keith asked, lifting it out of the box to study it.  It was a dark blue color and the softest thing Keith had ever touched.

“Maybe if you hadn’t waited until the _day_ before your birthday to tell me that it was your birthday, I could have made something a little more impressive,” Lance said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“When did you have time to make this?”

Lance shrugged.  “After I left your place.  I, uh, took a little break when I called you.  But it’s not super time consuming.”

“It’s gorgeous,” Keith said, wrapping it loosely around his neck.  “You shouldn’t have.”

“Of course I should have,” Lance said.  “It’s your birthday.  I really would have done something cooler if you’d _told_ me your birthday was coming up.

“If I’d had my way, you would still be blissfully ignorant right now,” Keith said, but he snuggled down into the scarf just a bit.  It smelled like Lance’s cologne.

Lance huffed indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest.  “Fine, then maybe I won’t give you part two of your birthday present,” Lance said.

Keith rolled his eyes.  “Okay.”

“That’s it?! Okay?!”

“Yeah.”

“Keith, you’re killing me,” Lance said, reaching out to shake Keith gently by the shoulders.  “Do you even have an enthusiastic bone in your body?”

“Yours is pretty enthusiastic sometimes,” Keith commented.

Lance bit his lower lip.  “Okay, that’s funny.”

Keith smirked. “I know.”

“Fine, I’ll still give you part two,” Lance said.  “It’s literally the only thing that might make up for my inability to get you an appropriate birthday gift.”

“Are birthdays like a big thing with you?”

“Yes, and mine is July twenty-eighth, so start planning soon.  But right now, we’re worried about yours, so _tonight_ you gotta come over to my place.”

“Is my present birthday sex?” Keith asked, keeping his voice low.

“Maaaaaybe,” Lance sang.

“What makes birthday sex different from the sex we have any other night?”

“Well, first, because it’s your birthday,” Lance said.  “And the other differences are surprises.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t like he was going to turn down sex with Lance.  He was only human after all.  A human with one very overwhelming and specific weakness.  “Fine.  I’ll come over.”

Lance grinned.  “Great.”

“My mom told me to invite you to lunch, by the way,” Keith said.  “We’re getting pizza before she leaves town.”

“I have class,” Lance said regretfully.  “But thanks for the invitation and tell Krolia she rocks.”

Keith huffed out a laugh.  “Yeah, alright.”

“Good morning class!” Professor Smythe exclaimed, striding in the door precisely on the hour.  “This morning we will be watching a film!”

Keith leaned toward Lance.  “Where’s Pidge?”

“Doctor’s appointment,” Lance replied.  “Is it okay if I stay sitting with you?”

“Of course.”

Lance smiled, settling back against his seat and turning his attention toward the projector wall.  Keith pulled out a notebook and a pen.  The film burst to life and Professor Smythe took a seat near the door, his attention fully centered on the presentation.  Keith yawned immediately. 

A few minutes into the movie, Lance pulled a Sharpie out of his bag and leaned in close.  “Can I borrow some paper?”

Keith nudged his notebook toward Lance, giving up the pretense that he’d been taking notes entirely.  If Lance was going to be a studious participant, more power to him.  Keith didn’t know how he was going to make it through the hour.

Lance drew a tic-tac-toe board in the corner of the paper and left a bold, blue O in the middle square before sliding it back toward Keith.  Keith shot Lance a look, but quickly left his own X in red pen in the upper left corner of the board.  Lance followed it up with an O in the opposite upper corner.

They played seventeen consecutive games of tic-tac-toe.

In the margins of the paper, they left a stream of commentary and banter, leaving it on the paper so that they wouldn’t get shushed by their professor.

**_Stop cheating!!_ **

_How would someone even cheat at tic tac toe?_

**_I don’t know!! How else do you keep winning?_ **

_You just suck at tic tac toe?_

**_RUDE!!!!!! >:(_ **

Keith tried not to snicker as he watched Lance flip to a fresh notebook page.  He drew seven short lines across the middle of the paper, then drew a strange, boxy shape above it.  Then Lance nudged the notebook toward Keith.

Keith lifted an eyebrow questioningly.

**_hangman.  Guess a letter._ **

Keith wrote an A in the space above the platform.  Lance crossed it out with his pen.  Keith wrote an E beside it.  Lance jotted an E in the second to last space.  **__ _ _ _ _ E __**

_I_

Lance crossed out Keith’s guessed letter and drew a small circle near the platform – first strike.

_O_

A stick body joined the head.

_U_

Lance filled a bold, blue U into the second space.  **__ U _ _ _ E __**

Keith furrowed his brow.

**_out of vowels now bitch ;) ;)_ **

_Y_

Lance scoffed and added an arm.

_R_

**_no ur so bad at this!!_** Lance added a second arm.

_B_

Lance let out a quiet little huff as he added a B to the first space.  **_B U _ _ _ E __**

Keith made a few more incorrect guesses.  Lance was silently chortling beside him.  He’d gotten creative with adding a face to the stick figure before the legs in order to draw it out longer.

_this is an actual word, right?_

**_never doubt me keith_ **

_T_

Lance filled in two consecutive T’s after the U.  **_B U T T _ E __**

Keith sighed heavily.

_you’re a child_

**_just guess!!!!_ **

_S and X_

Lance filled in the letters, completing the word Keith had correctly guessed.

**_good job!!_ **

_my turn_

Keith turned to a fresh page and scrawled out three neat rows of blanks. 

__ _ _ _ _‘_  _ _ _ _ _  _ _ _ __

Lance raised an eyebrow but quickly set his pen to the paper to accept the challenge.

**_S_ **

Okay, Keith had given that one away with the apostrophe.  __ _ _ _ _’S _ _ _ _ _  _ _ _ __

**_R_ **

Keith crossed out Lance’s guess and drew a little head on the platform.

**_T_ **

A stick body.

**_A??_ **

Keith smirked and added two A’s to the puzzle.  __ A _ _ _’S  _A_ _ _  _ _ _ __

**_L_ **

Lance was starting to catch on, at least to the first word.  After the L, he easily guessed the rest of his name, completing the first word of the puzzle.  _LANCE’S  _ A _ _ _  _ _ N __

Lance’s brows furrowed and he tapped the end of his marker against his lip as he contemplated his next guess.  **_I_**

Keith added an I before the final N.  He felt Lance bristle beside him and scribble down the next letter.

**_K_ **

Keith’s smirk grew as he added two K’s.  Lance was on to him now.

**_You suck fyi – D + Y_ **

_LANCE’S DADDY KINK_

Keith silently laughed as Lance tried not to smile, yanking the paper away and starting another fresh game.  It took longer than the other ones, but ended when Keith finally figured out what it said and leaned over to audible whisper his answer to the puzzle in Lance’s ear.

“Daddy like a _pretty baby_.”

Lance immediately wheezed with laugher, slapping both of his hands over his mouth to muffle the noise.  Professor Smythe tossed them an exasperated look and gestured toward the door, indicating that if they weren’t going to pay attention, they could leave.  Lance tucked his lips in as far as he could, his shoulders shaking with muffled laughter, and Keith sat back in his own seat with a grin.  In truth, it was only a few more minutes until the end of class, and when Professor Smythe finally dismissed them, Lance let his head fall forward against the desk and laugh once again.

“You know, it was _your_ puzzle,” Keith pointed out.

“I know but you do the voice so _perfectly_ ,” Lance said.  “I’m dead, Keith.  Your Pam impression killed me.”

Keith twisted his mouth into a thoughtful smirk.  “Too late for a Halloween costume revision?”

Lance groaned.  “Oh my _god,_ that’d be so good, don’t _tempt_ me.”

“You still haven’t told me what I’m supposed to go as?” Keith asked.

“Patience, young padawan,” Lance said.  “I’m still working on the final touches.”

“Whatever,” Keith hummed.  “I have to go meet my mom, though.”

“Tell her I said hi,” Lance said.  “And I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

Keith nodded.  “Sure thing.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Keith arrived home, his mother was perched on the kitchen counter, chatting with Shiro and Adam.

“Hey, happy birthday, Keith!” Adam exclaimed as Keith dropped his bookbag on the floor.  “You’re old now.”

“I am a fountain of youth,” Keith deadpanned.

“That’s a lovely scarf,” Krolia observed.  “Did you have that when you left this morning?”

“Oh, uh, Lance made it for me,” Keith said, absently running the end of the soft garment between his fingertips.  “He’s mad that I apparently didn’t give him time to get me a ‘proper gift’, but he made this whole scarf from scratch, so he’s really just being a drama queen.”

“It’s a beautiful color,” Krolia said, and something about the smile on her face told Keith she had some illusions about him and Lance that Keith really would prefer she didn’t have.  “Is he coming to lunch with us?

“He has class,” Keith said.  “But he said thanks for the invitation and that you’re the coolest mom ever.”

Krolia laughed.  “He’s quite a character, isn’t he?  I can see why you’re friends.”

“Where are we going for pizza?” Keith asked, just for the sake of getting off the subject of Lance.  It was a dangerous topic to linger on with Shiro and Adam here.

“You boys tell me where, and it will be my treat.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Krolia,” Shiro insisted, but he’d known her long enough to know it was a losing argument.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Shiro,” Krolia said.  “You let me stay in your home every year for mine and Keith’s little tradition, so it’s the least I can do.”

“Krolia, will you adopt me and we can start new, cool birthday traditions?” Adam asked.

Krolia only smiled, shooing the boys out the door and down to the street level.  Adam and Shiro walked hand in hand a few paces in front of Keith and Krolia, who had slung her arm over her son’s shoulders to embrace him as they walked.  “I really like that Lance kid, you know. Very nice young man.”

“He likes you too,” Keith chuckled.

“Is there something going on there, or…”

Keith tucked his chin against his chest. “We’re just friends, Mom.”

“Okay, but sometimes ‘just friends’ can become… something more,” Krolia said.  “Your father and I were ‘just friends’ right up until the point I told him I was pregnant with you.”

“Oh god, Mom,” Keith groaned.  “Its not—We aren’t like that.”

“But you _want_ to be,” Krolia said, and there it was. The read of the century. Keith’s crush was so transparent that even his mom could tell how hopelessly gone for Lance Keith was after spending only a few hours with him. “It’s okay to have a crush, Keith.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter,” Keith argued vainly. “He doesn’t like me like that.”

“Are you sure about that, Keith?”

“Very.”

Krolia hummed. “Feelings can change, Keith.  If he truly doesn’t reciprocate, then just know that eventually, you will move on. Don’t waste your time with someone who won’t appreciate you.”

“Thanks Mom,” Keith said.

“I still think he’s a very handsome boy.”

“Whoa, when did ‘nice’ become ‘handsome’?”

Krolia nudged Keith’s temple with her forehead, laughing quietly. “You have eyes, Keith. You tell me.”

“Mom, holy shit.”

Krolia brought her hand up to push Keith’s bangs back from his face, tousling his hair gently.  “I’m rooting for you, sweetheart.  I don’t think it’s quite as hopeless as you think it is.”

 

* * *

 

 

Keith wasn’t fully sure what to be expecting as he knocked on Lance’s dorm room door that evening, but it wasn’t Lance answering the door in a long, silk kimono.

Lance quickly tugged Keith inside, glancing both ways before shutting the door.  Once the door was securely locked, Lance turned to Keith with a seductive smile on his face.  “Take a seat, Golden Boy. Take off your shirt.”

Keith did, perching on the edge of Lance’s mattress with one eyebrow raised, waiting for whatever it was Lance had prepared for this evening.  “Golden boy?”

“It’s your golden birthday, right?” Lance asked.  “Golden boy.”

Keith twisted his mouth, conceding the point.

“Do you want to unwrap your present, or should I?” Lance asked, his eyes dancing as he teased Keith, hips swaying back for forth as he moved closer.

“I’ll watch,” Keith replied, leaning back on his arms casually.

Lance shrugged, tugging gently on the belt holding his robe closed.  He tugged it out of the loops, still holding the robe with one hand, and looped the soft silk around Keith’s neck playfully.  Keith watched intently as Lance slowly parted the robe and the air in Keith’s lungs vanished like he was punched in the stomach. Smooth bronze skin was revealed as the silk kimono dropped down Lance’s shoulders.  He took his time, maybe nerves or maybe teasing, and Keith wasn’t about to complain because he was the sole audience member.

The robe parted further before finally dropping, pooling to the floor around Lance’s feet and Keith hungrily took in the sight of Lance in a pair of decadent red, lace panties.  Lance turned slowly, showing off the stretch of the lace around the curves of his ass and the bulge of his cock, prominent beneath the delicate pattern. Lance’s legs were encased in sheer, red stockings, the matching lace trims hugging the plushest part of Lance’s long, pretty legs, held up by delicate garter straps.

“What do you think?” Lance asked softly, his hands fluttering briefly at his sides, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.

“Hot damn.”

Lance’s lips curled into a pleased smile. “Yeah?”

“I suddenly love my birthday.”

Lance laughed, running his fingertips along the waistband of his panties, straightening the lace until it lay perfectly against his skin.  “I’m very good at gift-giving.”

Keith let his gaze run down the length of Lance’s body, from his handsome face down to smooth, broad shoulders, down further over his trim waist to elegant, stocking-clad feet. “You’re beautiful.”

Lance’s cock twitched in its lace confinement. “Yeah?”

Keith crooked his fingers, beckoning Lance, who quickly closed the distance between them.  Keith stretched out a hand to run along the smooth swath of Lance’s thigh that wasn’t covered by stockings, curling it around the back to rest on Lance’s ass.  Keith’s fingers brushed against lace and a shiver ran through him instantly.  “Yeah.”

“I spent absolute ages getting ready,” Lance said.  “So make sure you fully appreciate it.”

“Oh I will,” Keith said, letting the tips of his fingers slide under the edge of Lance’s panties, digging into the soft flesh with both hands.  “Promise.”

Lance let out a breathy whimper, his hands coming to rest on Keith’s upper arms.  “Oh boy.”

“You’re cute when you’re horny,” Keith smirked.

“Well you’re—” Lance began, then faltered briefly.  “You’re really hot, so of course I’m horny.”

“Good comeback,” Keith chuckled.

Lance pressed closer, his lips ghosting across Keith’s jaw and intensifying the heat pooling in Keith’s gut.  “It’s your birthday, so the banter is strictly playful.”

“Our banter is always playful.”

“Hm, I feel like I should argue that point, but that would betray the playful banter rule.”

“Is that one of our rules now?” Keith asked.  “I should really have been writing these down.”

“We could always toss ‘em out the window,” Lance suggested.  “Start from scratch.”

“I feel like that might be a bad idea,” Keith said.  “Considering that we make them up for a reason in the first place.”

Lance’s palms slid up Keith’s arms until they met at the nape of his neck.  “Remind me what those reasons were again?”

Keith didn’t respond, instead dipping his head down to get his lips on the soft skin of Lance’s neck.  The rules were the only thing keeping Keith’s sanity intact, and if they started to question that, Keith didn’t think he’d make it much further without ruining this thing they had.  Lance would never want to be friends with him if he knew the truth Keith had been hiding this whole time.

Keith just wanted to appreciate this while it lasted.

“So Birthday Boy,” Lance hummed after a few moments.  “What do you want to do tonight?”

“I want to taste every inch of you,” Keith breathed.

Lance grinned, like he’d known that would be Keith’s answer from the start.  Hell, he probably did.  There were some days Keith swore Lance could read him like an open book.  “What, you didn’t get enough birthday cake or something?”

“Looks like somethin’ a hell of a lot better is on the menu,” Keith volleyed.  “And it is my birthday, after all.”

“Tell me how you want it, Golden Boy,” Lance said.

“I wanna bury my face in your ass,” Keith asked, his voice a low rumble in his chest.  “I wanna eat you out ‘til you cry, baby.”

Lance stilled, his fingers trembling faintly against the back of Keith’s neck.  “Yeah.  Okay.”

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay—” Keith added quickly, but Lance shook his head.

“It’s fine,” Lance said.  “I, uh… I’ve never had anyone do that for me before.”

“I can suck you off if you’d rather,” Keith offered again, because Lance seemed nervous, and nervous wasn’t a trait Lance usually let shine through.

“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” Lance breathed out.  “Please, Keith.”

“Lay down,” Keith ordered softly.

“Stomach?” Lance asked.

“On your back,” Keith said.  He was aching for the weight of Lance’s pretty legs draped over his shoulders.  He directed him to lay at the edge of the bed, his legs dangling toward the floor so that Keith could kneel down on the floor and nudge his way between Lance’s legs.  He pressed his lips to a spot above Lance’s naval, right where lace and skin met, and left a slow trail of kisses inching downward.

He could feel the way Lance’s eyes were trained on his every movement, his muscles tense beneath bronze skin.  He settled on his knees between Lance’s long, stocking-covered legs, running his hands leisurely up the length of his thighs.  “Have I told you how much I like your legs?” Keith asked softly, slipping his thumb under one of the garter straps.

“No,” Lance replied, equally quiet.  His feet shifted a bit against the mattress, a bit of the tension leaking out of him.  “What do you like about them?”

“They’re so long,” Keith said, lifting one of them up by the knee, kissing it softly as he let it rest on his shoulder.  His gaze slid back to Lance, blue eyes wide but blown dark.  “I could just run my hands down them all fucking day.”

Lance’s foot curled a bit against Keith’s back.  “Too bad shorts season is over.”

Keith made a low noise in his throat, letting Lance know just how disappointed he was about that turn of events.  He mouthed at the outline of Lance’s cock, working over the lace until the delicate fabric was soaking.

“I’ll send you lots of pics from Cuba over Thanksgiving break,” Lance offered, the barest hint of a smile curling onto his lips. 

God, would they still be doing this by Thanksgiving?  The curling tendril of guilt in his gut kept Keith’s hopes from getting too high.  Keith offered a smile he hoped didn’t look too forced.  “You better.”

“I’m gonna spend every second on the beach,” Lance said, but Keith could hear the affected tone to his voice.  He let his mouth trail lower, kissing at Lance’s balls, at the soft skin where his hip met his body, before finally pulling aside the thin strap running up the back of the thong and running his fingers over the pink ring hiding underneath.  “Christ, Keith.”

“You okay?”

Lance nodded, his brows furrowed deep and his eyes open but refusing to meet Keith’s.  “Yeah. It’s—I’m okay.”

“Is there something I can do to make it better?” Keith asked, continuing to slowly, gently tease the ring of muscle with two fingers and his open-mouthed kisses.

Lance blinked twice, his gaze hesitantly sliding toward Keith’s to hold for only a moment before his eyes slipped shut.  “Call me baby again.”

“You like that, baby?” Keith asked, watching Lance’s dick twitch again in his panties.  “You sure you don’t have a daddy kink?”

“Shut up,” Lance said, but there was no bite behind it and Keith could see him trying not to smile.

“Daddy like a _pretty baby_.”

“Keith, I swear to go— _ahh!_ ”  Lance’s back arched as the flat of Keith’s tongue laved over the tight ring of his entrance. “ _Fuck_ , dude, this is sending some seriously weird signals to my brain.”

“In a bad way?” Keith asked, withdrawing just long enough to ask the question before diving right back in.

“No, god, no,” Lance said.  “Just… fuck, just keep doing that.”

Keith chuckled, more than happy to oblige.  He used his hands to spread Lance’s ass, giving himself more room to kiss and suck and lick at Lance’s hole.  Lance’s thighs tensed on either side of Keith’s head, his heel digging firmly into Keith’s shoulder blade as a steady stream of English and Spanish curse words fell from Lance’s lips.  It was possibly the most vocal that Keith had ever heard Lance, and it only spurred Keith on.  He was determined to draw every beautiful sound from Lance’s lips that he could.

The knock at the door froze them both in their tracks.  Keith sat up, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and looking up at Lance for a cue.  Lance’s face was red and his hair already disheveled as he put a finger to his lips, signaling silence in hopes that the knocker would go away.  They did not, and the next knock was accompanied by the sound of Hunk’s concerned voice ringing through the door.  “Lance, I know you’re home.  Are you okay?  Are you dead?”

“Stay here,” Lance said softly, climbing off the bed and bending down to retrieve his robe from the floor.  He shrugged it back over his shoulders and wrapped it around himself, cinching the waist to cover himself.  Keith slipped under the covers, covering his head just in case Lance opened the door a bit too far.  It would be easier to write off a mysterious lump in Lance’s bed than Keith’s swollen lips and obvious boner at nine pm on a Tuesday.

Lance cracked the door just far enough to pop his head out. “Hey dude.”

“Everything alright, man? I’ve been texting you for ages.”

“My phone’s off.  What’s up?”

“Did you still want to go to Wings and Sings with us?”

“Oh shit,” Lance muttered.  “I completely forgot, dude.”

“It’s alright! We’ll wait if you want to get dressed?”

“Uh… raincheck.”

“Everything okay?”

Keith swallowed hard as Lance’s voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper.  “I, uh, I kinda have someone over.”

“Oh! Dude, I’m so sorry,” Hunk said contritely.

“My bad for forgetting about our plans,” Lance said.

“Don’t even worry about it, man,” Hunk said.  “Have fun.  Tell her I’m sorry for the interruption.”

“Bye Hunk,” Lance said, his voice a little stronger.

“There’s extra condoms in my room if decide to keep it going,” Hunk said.

“BYE HUNK.”

Lance shut the door with a firm click, the sound of Hunk’s laughter echoing through the door.  Lance’s gaze slid to meet Keith’s.  “That was close.”

“Kind of heteronormative for Hunk to assume you had a girl over,” Keith commented, propping himself up on one elbow.

Lance shrugged a shoulder, his gaze dropping to inspect his fingernails casually.  “I haven’t hooked up with a guy since before Hunk and I became friends. He knows I’m bi, but I’ve also kind of set a precedent.”

“How long have you and Hunk been friends?”

“End of freshman year.”

“You’ve only hooked up with girls for the last three years?”

Lance shrugged again.  “Path of least resistance.”

Keith was starting to get the feeling it ran a little bit deeper than that.

Lance slipped back out of his robe, draping it over the back of his desk chair before moving back toward the bed, climbing up to straddle Keith’s lap.  “You look like a hot mess,” Lance chuckled, running his thumb along Keith’s lower lip.  “Thought you didn’t like my ass.”

“I don’t think I ever said that,” Keith said, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

Lance rolled his eyes.  “It’s your birthday, so I won’t make you eat your words tonight, but _someday_ , Keith… Someday.”

“And for right now?” Keith asked cheekily.

“For right now,” Lance said, pushing Keith back against the bed. “I’m gonna make this a very happy birthday for you.”

Keith grinned, grabbing at Lance’s waist. Lance pushed his hands away and rose up on his knees so he could drag Keith’s pants off and toss them far, far away.  “No touching until I say so,” Lance said playfully, wiggling his hips back and forth in the air above Keith’s now-bare crotch.

Keith lifted an eyebrow but let his hands rest against the mattress where they’d been placed. Lance sank back down until his bare ass was resting on Keith’s hips, Keith’s cock nestling perfectly in the cleft.

Lance lifted a brow when Keith’s cock twitched violently. “I haven’t even done anything yet, honey.”

“You’re telling me,” Keith huffed, but he was determined to play along with Lance’s ‘no touching’ game.

Lance grinned wolfishly, starting up a slow grind of his hips over Keith’s. “You’re used to being the one dishing it out, aren’t you? You don’t know what to do with yourself when you can’t set the pace.”

“I can take whatever you’re planning to throw at me,” Keith said confidently, but he knew it was false bravado. Lance knew it too.

“Sure you can, sweetheart,” Lance said, and _god_ , Lance’s ass was so smooth and warm around Keith’s cock. He could just imagine what it would feel like to be _inside_ him.  “Think you can come just like this? Without even touching me?”

Keith groaned, his hands twitching for purchase in the sheets. “Shit.”

“You seemed pretty confident last night that bottoming was outside the realm of possibilities for me,” Lance hummed and _oh god,_ if Lance was about to do what Keith thought he was going to do, Keith was going to spontaneously combust.  “You think my ass can’t handle you or something?”

“You just don’t like it,” Keith murmured. “You said you don’t.”

Lance leaned in close, his breath trailing hot over Keith’s ear. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

Keith swallowed hard, hips jerking upward involuntarily. Lance was still grinding smooth and heavy against him and maybe this was doing it for Keith just a _little_ too well. For as big as Lance’s submissive streak was, Keith had gotten the message pretty clearly that he didn’t want to be the one taking it up the ass.  Now though…

Lance hummed, lifting up to remove contact. “Ah ah ah, down boy.”

“Lance,” Keith whimpered. “Come on.”

“What do you want, _carino_?” Lance sat down again, grinding Keith’s aching cock back into the soft dip between his cheeks. “You want this?”

“Wanna touch you,” Keith murmured, sucking in hard breaths in an effort not to squirm.

Lance shook his head, mirth lighting his features. God, he was so beautiful. “Not yet, handsome. You look too pretty like this. All hot and bothered.”

“Lance,” Keith tried again, putting a bit more pleading into his voice. “Baby, I need to touch you.”

Lance smiled devilishly, his hips grinding even faster now.. “You think my favorite pet name is gonna get you what you want?”

“What do you want?” Keith breathed.

“I want you to ask nicely, _carino_.”

“Please,” Keith breathed out. “Please, baby, please let me touch you.”

It was Lance’s turn to whimper as he turned his face into Keith’s neck, sucking gently on the soft skin, his humping growing nearly frantic. “Touch me, Keith,” Lance whispered.

Keith’s hands flew to Lance’s hips, pulling, shifting him closer. There was nothing better than the slide of Lance’s skin against Keith’s cock, and he was hopeless to do anything but chase the sensation. “Lance, baby, Lance,” Keith panted, rocking up to meet Lance’s hips as they continued their own grind down against him. “Baby, you feel so fucking good.”

Lance was gasping against Keith’s neck, his cock twitching where it was trapped between their bodies. “Oh god, Keith. Keith, don’t stop.”

Keith slid a hand between them to wrap around Lance’s cock, stroking in time with their frantic rutting. Lance’s noises grew more and more unintelligible the closer he got to orgasm, slurred Spanish mixing in with choked off moans of Keith’s name, until finally Lance’s back bowed, his face pinching in ecstasy as he came across Keith’s chest. A few more desperate thrusts and Keith was following suit, his come painting Lance’s crack and leaking down his thighs.

Lance went boneless on top of Keith, who couldn’t help but nuzzle his face against Lance’s shoulder as his lungs slowly caught up to him.

“Jesus,” Lance muttered eventually, pressing a soft kiss to Keith’s neck.  “That was fucking hot as hell.”

“I hope that’s not, like, a standard, catch-all birthday gift you give everyone, or I’m gonna have to file a complaint.”

Lance snorted. “Oh honey, each one of my birthday presents is hand-tailored to the recipient. You’re the only one who’s gotten humped within an inch of his life.”

“Good to know.”

“Want to go again, or do you just wanna chill?”

“I want to watch a movie,” Keith said.

“What movie?”

“Lilo and Stitch.”

Lance laughed. “He’s hot _and_ he’s got good taste in Disney movies. Ladies and gentleman, what a catch.”

“Shut up.”

Lance slid off of Keith to towel off and trade out his lingerie for a pair of sweatpants. Keith cleaned up as well, accepting Lance’s offer of pajama pants so he didn’t have to put his jeans back on.

Lance climbed back up beside Keith and lay his head on Keith’s shoulder, cueing up the movie for them. He fell asleep somewhere before the final battle scene, his nose nuzzled warm against Keith’s neck and his breath ticking Keith’s collarbone with every rhythmic exhale.

This would go down in the record books as Keith’s favorite birthday, hands down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> true behind-the-scenes story from the making of this chapter:
> 
> me: i'm trying to write a mcfucking sex scene and keith is like gently teasing lance about having a daddy kink and i'm so tempted to make a final pam reference oh my g o d  
> friend: FINAL PAM IS ALWAYS IN SEX SCENES WHETHER WE KNOW IT OR NOT  
> friend: Pam knows. Pam sees.  
> me: d a d d y l i k e a p r e t t y b a b y
> 
> bonus:  
> 2nd friend: Pam can watch me do whatever she wants. What am I gonna do, fight her? I don't think so.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen you can call this a cop out but halloween is not my holiday and i’d rather give you fluff than a halloween party i know could have been done better

Keith hated getting sick.

His immune system was pretty good, and he didn’t socialize more than absolutely necessary, so illness rarely caught up to him.  On the occasions when it did, however, Keith spent as long as humanly possible denying the warning signs and pretended to be surprised when the flu hit him like a truck a few days later.  So when Keith woke up Tuesday morning with a sore throat, he figured he had a couple days before he’d really feel the effects.  If he was lucky, it’d hit Friday and he’d just take a long weekend to recover.  The genuine surprise was waking up Wednesday morning with the worst migraine he could remember and a shaking chill that had him burrowing as far into his blankets as possible.

Fuck his life, right?

He wallowed for a good twenty minutes, willing his misery away to absolutely no avail, before he finally shoved himself out of his bed to dig through the medicine cabinet for NyQuil.  If he could spend the rest of the day in a coma, it would surely be better than this.

All Keith found was a half-empty box of TheraFlu pills that Shiro swore by, so Keith figured that would do for now.  He swallowed two with a handful of tap water before bracing his hands against the counter and squeezing his eyes shut.  At the very least, he wasn’t nauseous, so he took that as a good sign.  The worst part of this so far was the pounding ache in the center of his head and the way his limbs were already shaking in withdrawal from his warm blankets.

Keith stumbled out of the bathroom and into the kitchen for a glass of water he could leave on his nightstand so he wouldn’t have to get up again.  Hopefully.  He filled a glass with water, drank half, and then filled it up again.  He grabbed a box of tissues out of the closet where they kept them and headed for his room.  By the time he made it there, his teeth were chattering from the chill, and he sat the glass and the tissues down as carefully as he could before diving back under his blankets.

**_Shiro_ **

_< < could you pick up a bottle of nyquil after class_

_> > Sure. You okay?_

_< < existence is hell_

_> > Is it time for your bi-yearly flu?_

_< < can the flu be terminal_

_> > Technically speaking? Yes._

_< < okay well can death come sooner than later because i would rather not drag this out_

_> > I’ll be home around eleven.  Do you need anything else?  Besides death?_

_< < no_

Keith closed his eyes, burrowed deep under his blankets with his phone handy, but sleep was fitful.  He managed to email his professors that he would be absent from class today, and let both Allura and his supervisor at the library know he would not make it to his scheduled shifts today and possibly tomorrow.  Allura was quick to wish him well, and his professors were kind as well, given that Keith was an attentive student.  Eventually, the medicine began to numb his headache and he was able to pretend he didn’t feel death literally creeping up on him.

It was a few hours later when Keith heard the door open.

“Keith?”

Keith groaned, but knowing that Shiro would have his medicine, he grabbed his phone, pushed himself out of bed (learning from the last time and taking his quilt with him), and headed for the kitchen.

Shiro was standing at the counter unpacking his little plastic grocery bag.  He looked up as Keith entered and lifted one eyebrow.  “You look like shit.”

“I feel even worse,” Keith grumbled, wrapping his blanket tighter around his shoulders.  “NyQuil please.”

“You know, there’s stuff that probably works better than that,” Shiro was saying, but Keith had already spotted the bottle and was stretching his hand out of his warm cocoon to snatch it off the counter.

“I tried the stupid TheraFlu you left in the medicine cabinet and it didn’t work,” Keith said curtly, screwing the cap off the NyQuil and swallowing a mouthful straight from the bottle.  “I’d like to feel better now.”

Shiro shook his head but didn’t argue, and Keith knew it was because Shiro felt bad for him.  “I’ve never seen the flu hit anyone like it always hits you,” Shiro said.

“Yeah it’s my fucking curse,” Keith muttered, adjusting his blanket so it hung from the top of his head. 

“I got you soup, too,” Shiro said, nudging a can of Campbell’s chicken noodle across the counter.  “Do you want me to heat it up for you?”

“No,” Keith said, wobbling slightly as he coughed twice and his balance threatened to give out on him.  “Maybe.”

“You should definitely eat something before that NyQuil kicks in,” Shiro said, already cracking the can open.  “Do you want to go back to bed?”

Keith shook his head, instead taking a seat at their kitchen table and laying his head on the surface.  For as cold as he was, his face felt hot, so he let his cheek press against the cold acrylic surface and shut his eyes.

“Fever?”

“Yep.”

“Nauseous?”

“No, thank god.”

“Sore throat?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Yeah, your voice sounds like hell.  Need me to call your mom?”

Keith shook his head, even though part of him wanted to say yes.  It wasn’t that he was so sick he wanted his mom, he was just kind of clingy when he was sick.  When he was a kid, his mom would always sit him in her lap and he would sleep listening to the steady beat of her heart.  It had been at least ten years since he’d last done that, but he sort of craved that kind of affection when he was sick, even if he was twenty-three.  “She’s working tonight.”

“She’d come in a heartbeat if you asked,” Shiro said.

“I know.”

“Did you email your professors?” Shiro asked.

“Yeah,” Keith said, not moving.  “And work.”

“Allura said she hopes you feel better soon,” Shiro said.

“Thanks.”

“Adam and I will be leaving for the Halloween party around five, so if you need anything before then, let me know,” Shiro said.

Keith groaned, shifting to let his forehead rest on the table instead.  “Fuck.”

“What?”

“I forgot it’s Halloween,” Keith said, sitting up just far enough to pull his phone out and shoot off a text message.   “Lance is gonna kill me for bailing.”

“Did you have plans with him?” Shiro asked.

“I guess he and Hunk go all out for Halloween,” Keith explained.  “And since Hunk was coordinating costumes with Pidge this year, Lance wanted me to coordinate with him.”

“You never do Halloween,” Shiro said, the surprise evident in his voice.  “You really agreed to it?”

“Yeah, well, Lance is not one to take no for an answer,” Keith groused, but the Lance-related guilt already fermenting in his stomach doubled at the thought of bailing on him tonight.  “Doesn’t matter now, I guess.  He’s gonna think I’m a flake.”

“You’re sick, he’ll understand,” Shiro said sympathetically.  He moved to place a warm cup of soup in front of Keith on the table.  “Drink your soup.”

Keith pushed himself upright and wrapped his hands around the dish, letting the heat soak through the ceramic into his skin before he lifted it to his lips.  “If you see him at the party, tell him I’m sorry,” Keith said.

“Lance?” Shiro asked.

Keith nodded.

“Just text him,” Shiro said.

“I will, but he’s going to think I’m lying,” Keith said.  “Not feeling well is the oldest excuse in the book.”

“I think Lance knows you’re not the type to lie about something like that,” Shiro said, and _oh boy_ , if only Shiro knew just how much Keith lied to Lance.  “But I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks,” Keith muttered, before returning to his soup.  He drank it easily, trying not to do so too quickly.  In the meantime, Shiro had returned to putting away the contents of his little plastic grocery bag, which Keith was certain had been purchased exclusively for his benefit.

“There’s orange juice and Gatorade in the fridge,” Shiro said as Keith swallowed the last dregs of his soup.  “There are crackers and more soup in the pantry if you get hungry again, and since I’m in class from noon to three, Adam is on standby in case you need anything else.”

“He doesn’t need to do that,” Keith said.  “I’m literally about to go pass out for at least that long.”

“Good,” Shiro said.  “Get lots of sleep.  I’ll make sure there’s water on your nightstand before I leave.”

“Thanks Shiro.”

“Feel better, Keith.”

Keith nodded, returning to his room and falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

 

He woke up hours later feeling like he’d slept for a year.  His limbs ached, and while his headache had dulled to a vague presence at the base of his skull, he knew he was not so fortunate as to be done with this illness yet.  He huffed out a sigh, trying to roll over and find a position to lay in that made his body hurt the least.  He could hear the faint sounds of Shiro and Adam somewhere in the apartment, probably getting ready for their party.  It took a while of laying there for Keith to decide whether or not he wanted to move again, but eventually he decided it would be a good idea to pee and maybe sit upright for a while.  Shiro was in the bathroom when Keith got there, but quickly got the hint and gracefully bowed out.  When he’d finished, washing his hands thoroughly and swishing a bit of mouthwash through to get rid of the disgusting, stale taste on the back of his tongue, he grabbed his blanket out of his bedroom, swallowed another dose of NyQuil, and settled in the living room, curled up in a ball against the arm of the sofa.

“Feeling any better?” Shiro asked, and if Keith wasn’t still miserable, he would have cackled at the sight of Shiro in pale makeup and dark kohl eyeliner.  He was going as a vampire because he was a basic bitch.

“No,” Keith said.

“Hungry?”

“No.”

“Need anything?”

“Gatorade,” Keith said, just because Shiro might leave him alone if he felt like he’d contributed something.

Shiro retrieved a bottle from the fridge and handed it to Keith, who cracked it open to take the barest sip before sitting it on the coffee table, far, far away from his warm cocoon.

“Hey kid, heard you’re dying,” Adam said, appearing from Shiro’s bedroom where he’d been changing into his costume.  It looked similar to Shiro’s, but with the addition of a black cloak and without the pale makeup.  He dropped into the chair across from Keith – companionable, but not overbearing.

“What are you supposed to be?”

“Necromancer,” Adam said, his focus on whoever he was texting.

“Huh.”

“Don’t judge.”

“I’m only judging Shiro.”

Adam smiled, nudging his glasses up his nose.  “Good, ‘cuz I already told him he’s basic as hell.”

“Vampires are a Halloween staple!” Shiro shouted from the bathroom.

“For basic white girls!” Adam shouted back.

“And yet you’re still gonna fuck me after this!”

Adam shook his head, not dignifying Shiro with a response.  Keith rolled his eyes and shifted a little deeper into his blankets.  “You want the remote, Keith?”

“Yeah.”

Adam handed Keith the remote control so he could flip through Netflix until he found his sick-day staple.  Adam glanced up at the tv, taking in Keith’s selection with casual interest.  “Something about teenage murder that makes you feel better, Keith?”

“Heather Chandler reminds me of Shiro.”

“Oh damn, Shiro!” Adam yelled.  “Keith’s just figured out next year’s Halloween costume!”

Keith smiled a little, burying it in his blankets so Adam wouldn’t see it.

“What is it?” Shiro asked, returning to the living room with his makeup finished.

“How do you feel about a red mini-skirt?”

“By next year I’ll be too old for that,” Shiro said.

“You don’t even have a birthday next year,” Adam pointed out.

Shiro rolled his eyes.  “I’ll go as Heather only if Keith goes as Winona Ryder’s character.”

“Hot.”

Keith threw the remote at Adam’s head.  “Bitch.”

“It’s alright, Adam looks great in green.  All we’ll need is a yellow Heather.”

“I think Lance would be one hundred percent in,” Adam commented.

“I love how you jumped straight to another dude instead of, like, Allura,” Shiro said.

Adam shrugged.  “If _we’re_ doing this, we’re doing it fucking right.  Allura can be JD.”

“Let’s get through this Halloween before we discuss next year’s,” Shiro said.  “We should get going, Adam.”

“Cool,” Adam said, accepting Shiro’s hand to pull himself up out of the chair.  “Need anything before we leave, Keith?”

“No.  Wait, can you find my phone for me?”

“In your room?” Shiro asked.

“I think so.”

Shiro disappeared, returning moments later with Keith’s phone.  Keith glanced at the string of missed notifications and promptly turned off the display.  He’d deal with those in a while.

“Sure you don’t want me to stay?” Shiro asked, his brows furrowed in genuine concern.

“I can take care of myself, Shiro,” Keith croaked out, which made his statement seem less genuine than he intended.  “Go.  Have fun.  If you’re gonna be loud and/or fuck after, please go to Adam’s instead of coming home.”

Shiro chuckled, tousling Keith’s hair with his hand.  “Will do, buddy.  We’ll be at the hospital party until about seven, and then we’ll be heading to the big party.  Text me if you need anything.”

“Sure, Dad,” Keith said flatly, levelling Shiro with an equally deadpan look.

“See ya, Keith,” Adam said.

The door clicked shut behind Shiro and Adam, and Keith let out a heavy sigh.  Some small part of him already missed the company, even if he didn’t feel well.  He absolutely would never have asked them to miss their party just to sit with him, but Keith had always been clingy when he was sick.  His mom had always known when he wasn’t feeling well simply because it was the only time he was overly affectionate.

Keith took another drink of Gatorade and inspected the list of notifications on his lock screen.  A few emails, probably from professors.  A text from a classmate, asking if he needed notes. One each from Shiro and Adam from hours ago, checking in while he had been asleep.  A missed call and a _ton_ of texts from Lance.  Oh boy.  Keith didn’t even want to know how mad he probably was.

He opened up the text thread from Lance and started reading from his reluctant message from this morning.

**_Lance_ **

_< < not feeling well. probably won’t make it tonight._

_> > you okay??_  
_> > do you need anything?_  
_ >> you’re probably not replying because you’re asleep._  
_ >> I saw shiro and he said you’re in bad fuckin’ shape_  
_ >> also he said you thought I’d be mad at you and I’m hella not_  
_ >> text me when you see this, I just want to make sure you’re_ _ok_

_< < i’m fine, just miserable_

_> > is it the flu?_

_< < yeah_

_> > rough dude_

_< < sorry_

_> > why are you apologizing??_

_< < I know you put a lot of effort into including me  
<< and i flaked last second_

_> > dude having the flu is not flaking_  
_> > you’re sick its totally fine_  
_ >> do you need anything?_

 _< < i'll be ok im just like tired_  
_< < i already slept most of the day tho so now im kinda chillin_  
_ << shiro and adam already left for the party_

_> > well, take it easy  
>> I’ll bring you some soup in a little while_

_< < you don’t have to do that  
<< the last thing you need is to catch whatever the hell I have_

Keith put his phone down, twisting his neck side to side to crack it a bit.  He had the vague idea that if he showered, he might feel a little less gross and a little more like a human, so he left his blanket on the sofa and headed for the bathroom.  The water was hot and soothing on his sore muscles, and after washing his hair, he’d just sort of stood there for a while, letting the water run down his shoulders and clear up the congestion on his sinuses.  He toweled off as quickly as he could and headed for his room for a pair of clean sweatpants and a henley.  He combed his hair and tugged on a pair of socks, a shiver running through him and signaling he should really get back to his nice, cozy blanket in the living room.

He stepped out of his room as he pulled his damp hair up into a ponytail and stopped short.

“Lance?”

Lance glanced up from his perch on the kitchen counter, phone in hand.  He smiled when he saw Keith.  “Hey dude.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I told you, I brought you soup,” Lance said, nodding toward the stove where there was a steaming pot sitting dormant.

“And I told you you didn’t have to,” Keith said, coughing into his elbow.

Lance rolled his eyes, pocketing his phone.  “Yeah, but I did.  I already made the soup and I’m not gonna eat it all by myself.”

“You’re so weird,” Keith grumbled, crossing his arms and trying to warm his hands against his body.

“Go get comfy, man,” Lance said, hopping down from the counter.  “I’ll bring you some.”

Keith sighed, but didn’t protest the idea of slipping back into his blanket on the sofa.  He pulled his knees up onto the sofa with him and tucked his blanket around him.  It was only a few minutes before Lance arrived in the living room, handing Keith a hot bowl of soup.

“You made this?” Keith asked.

Lance nodded, sitting in the chair across from Lance with his own bowl of soup.  “Yep.  It’s pho.”

“It smells amazing.”

Lance smiled.  “Good.”

Keith blew on the spoonful of soup, cooling it to a point where it wouldn’t scorch the roof of his mouth.  After he swallowed, he looked up at Lance.  “It’s really good.”

“Thanks, dude.  My abuela’s best friend is this tiny Vietnamese lady who gave her the recipe, like, a million years ago, and my entire family will attest that it’s a cure-all.”  Lance winked at the last part, bringing a tiny smile to Keith’s lips.

“You don’t have to sit here and hang out with me,” Keith said.  “I know you really like Halloween.”

Lance shrugged, stirring his spoon through his soup.  “Yeah, I know.”

Keith blinked, swallowing another spoonful of soup.  “Then why are you here?”

Lance shrugged again.  “Maybe I’d rather hang out with you.”

“No, seriously.”

Lance rolled his eyes.  “You really can’t get it through your thick, dumb, mullet that I like hanging out with you?”

“You have better things to do than sit here with a miserable, flu-ridden asshole,” Keith bit out.

Lance leaned back in the chair, draping one of his legs over the arm.  “Maybe.  Or maybe I’d rather cheer up my sick friend, because he’s probably had a shitty day.”

Keith frowned hard at Lance, unsure how else to get the point across that Keith didn’t want Lance to miss out on whatever fun evening he had ahead of him, even as he felt a warm, gooey feeling rising in his chest at the idea that Lance was willing to give up his holiday plans to cheer Keith up.  That Lance wanted to hang out with Keith even though Keith had literally nothing to offer Lance in return.

Lance shook his head.  “Dude, chill.  I’ve got all night.  Just eat your soup, and we can watch a movie or something until you decide you want to go to bed.”

Keith shifted, resting his bowl on his blanket-covered knees.  “Fine.  What do you want to watch?”

“Have you seen Over The Garden Wall?”

“No.”

“Would you rather watch something you’re familiar with?” Lance asked.

“No, that’s fine,” Keith said easily.  “I threw the remote at Adam, so it’s somewhere over there.”

Lance sat his bowl down, searching for the remote.  He found it lying halfway beneath the far side of the chair and pulled up the cartoon on Netflix.  The first episode passed quickly, as Keith mostly focused on finishing his soup.  It was just the right amount of spicy and flavorful, and Keith gratefully accepted the second bowl that Lance offered him.  When he’d finally finished eating, Keith sat his soup bowl down and wrapped his blanket around him nice and tight again.  “I’m so fuckin’ cold,” he muttered, burrowing his nose down under the edge of his blanket.

Lance stood up, moving to stand in front of Keith.  “Open up.”

Keith’s brows furrowed and he lifted the blanket up over his head.  “No.”

“Open _up_ ,” Lance repeated, tugging at the edge of the blanket.

“Why?”

“Don’t you trust me, Keith?”

Keith frowned, heaving out a sigh before he released his grip on the blanket, pulling his head back out from underneath.

Lance sat down beside Keith, scooting close until he was pressed right up against Keith’s side.  He tugged Keith’s legs over his own lap and slid an arm around Keith before arranging the blanket around Keith’s limbs again.

“You’re gonna get sick,” Keith said, but he turned his head so that he could bury his face in Lance’s neck, his ear pressed against Lance’s shoulder.

“My immune system is legendary, and I _always_ get my flu shot,” Lance said.

“Doesn’t mean you won’t get sick.”

“Is it making you feel better?”

“…Maybe.”

Lance’s arm shifted, bending so he could tug away the elastic band in Keith’s hair, weave his fingers into the dark waves, and massage his fingertips into Keith’s scalp.  “Then I don’t care.”

Keith closed his eyes, swallowing hard around the emotions threatening to spill from his chest.  Lance was warm and solid beside him, the fabric of his t-shirt soft against Keith’s cheek and his fingers sending a wave of relaxation over Keith’s whole being.  He could smell the coconut and sea-salt scent he always associated with Lance, along with the faint remains of a woodsy cologne he’d bought a few weeks ago, and Keith was sure he could stay right here forever – drenched in the scent of Lance and pressed up against his warm body.  “Why are you so nice to me?” Keith mumbled.

“You deserve nice things,” Lance said softly.

Keith shook his head, his eyes still closed and his limbs feeling more and more boneless as Lance’s warmth sank into him.  For the first time all day, he wasn’t shaking from the cold.  “Not this nice.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that,” Lance said lightly, squeezing Keith’s kneecap firmly.

“Not complaining,” Keith muttered.  “Just don’t get it.”

Keith felt Lance’s lips press against the top of his head.  “Are you gonna fall asleep?”

“No,” Keith lied.

Lance chuckled.  “It’s okay if you do.”

“You can leave whenever you need to,” Keith promised, even though his chest ached at the idea of this moment ending.  “Just say the word.”

“I will,” Lance said, and Keith knew he was lying, too.

But if Keith pressed his nose against just the right spot on Lance’s neck, he could feel Lance’s pulse against his skin, steady and reassuring.  Keith decided that for right now, he wouldn’t question this.  Just for now.  Just for this moment when Lance was being so very generous and sweet.  Just so Keith could soak in his warmth and his company and pretend that these good things could last.


	16. Chapter 16

The worst of Keith’s illness was over by the next day, and by the weekend, he felt good as new, which was great, because the first of his slew of English papers was due Monday, which meant he would spend the entire weekend bent over books older than he was and keeping no less than thirteen JSTOR tabs open on his laptop while he typed furiously into his word processor.  He texted Lance a bit on Sunday night, but was far too busy to hang out.  He tried to reason with the guilty pit in his stomach, telling himself Lance understood that Keith’s homework was priority, but after Halloween, he felt indebted to Lance.  For his time.  For his wasted holiday.  For the Halloween costumes Keith _knew_ Lance had poured so much time into, but that Lance wouldn’t even _tell_ Keith about because he swore he could “improve them and make it an even better surprise next year”.  Like next year was some tangible thing for them when Keith knew they were a ticking time bomb ready to explode at any moment just because Keith couldn’t keep his _fucking_ feelings at bay.

Keith gave Lance _extra_ sloppy head Monday night to try to ease his own guilt.

Keith was an expert at avoiding his problems, but the Lance Problem was more persistent than most other problems Keith had faced.  There was no doubting that Keith was in far too deep, but he didn’t know what option was better.  To stop seeing Lance in order to protect himself from getting hurt even worse and likely lose his friendship entirely, or to keep doing what he was doing and spend every moment feeling like he was about to be swallowed up by the black hole of guilt that had steadily been growing over the past few weeks.

Neither of these were good options in Keith’s opinion.

And then there was the thing that had happened on Keith’s birthday, which was another can of worms entirely.  Keith could still feel Lance’s hot breath in his ear, whispering that maybe he’d changed his mind, but Keith was not about to be the one to bring that up.  And after a couple of weeks, it was starting to seem that Lance wasn’t either.

Which was fine, Keith didn’t _mind_ sticking to what they’d always done as long as it meant he still got to _do it_.  What worried Keith was the way Lance seemed _different_ since then.  Like he’d come so close to doing something he actually wasn’t ready for.  Like he wasn’t convinced when Keith told him _over_ and _over_ that he didn’t need to do anything he didn’t want to.  Like this whole arrangement wasn’t built on the premise of them wanting to _relieve_ stress and not add to it.

Well that last one was hypocritical on Keith’s part.

Still, Keith was curious as he tried to fit the pieces of Lance’s past together – to figure out the timeline of Lance’s history that had found the man here, naked and moaning prettily at the sensation of Keith’s lips on his throat.

“Keith?” Lance asked, his voice quiet, almost hesitant as he pulled back a few inches in his proximity to Keith to look him in the eye.

“What’s wrong?”

Lance shook his head slowly, wrapping his fingers around Keith’s hand where it sat on his waist.  “Nothing.  Just… thinking about doing something different tonight.”

“Different how?”

“I want you,” Lance said, and his gaze was scanning Keith’s expression like he was expecting some kind of adverse reaction.  “Your cock, specifically.  Inside of me.”

“What?”  All the words were there, but they didn’t add up in Keith’s brain.  A ball of energy began winding itself tight deep inside Keith’s stomach.

“I just… want to try it,” Lance said softly, catching his lower lip between his teeth.  “Is that weird?”

“I thought you didn’t…” Keith didn’t know what to say.  Didn’t know how to finish his train of thought.

“I’ve only tried it the once,” Lance said, and suddenly pieces were falling into place.  “And honestly, I trust you a hell of a lot more than I trusted him.  So like, if you don’t want to, that’s okay, I just—”

“No, I—” Keith pushed himself up a little straighter against the headboard.  “If you want to, I want to.  I… Jesus, I didn’t expect you _to_ want to.”

Lance huffed out an incredulous little laugh.  “Yeah, well, this whole arrangement is all kinds of things I didn’t expect.”

Keith bit his lip.  “It’s been three years since you tried this?”

Lance shrugged.  “Give or take.”

“And you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Lance said, leaning down to capture Keith’s lips in another heated kiss.

“You—you remember I haven’t done it this way, right?”

Lance laughed, resting his forehead against Keith’s.  “Yeah, Mullet, I remember.  But just the idea of you taking charge does it for me, so I’m not too worried.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Lance paused at that, and it took a few seconds before he made eye contact with Keith.  “I know,” Lance whispered.  “That’s why I trust you.”

And _oh boy_ , was that a statement Keith didn’t even know what to do with, but Lance was already leaning back in, licking into Keith’s mouth and melting the part of Keith’s brain that dealt with (read: ignored) such issues like an adult.  Lance looped an arm around Keith’s neck, using his other hand to move Keith’s hand from where it was resting innocently on Lance’s waist to land firmly on Lance’s ass.

“Impatient much?” Keith murmured, but was happy to knead his fingers against the soft skin. 

“If you knew how long I’d been thinking about this, you’d be impressed by my restraint,” Lance responded, running the palm of his hand over Keith’s bare shoulder.

“How long?”

“Long enough to try to finger myself in the shower before you got here,” Lance said.  “Long enough for it to drive me crazy trying to look you in the eye at the library yesterday.”

“One whole day?”

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, sweetcheeks,” Lance said.  “We’ve been doing this for weeks in my dreams.”

“Jesus,” Keith breathed out, and if Lance’s goal with his statement was to kill Keith where he sat, it was working.  “That’s kind of a lot of pressure.”

“No pressure,” Lance assured him, dipping his head to kiss gently at Keith’s adam’s apple.  “I already know you’re great with your fingers.  Just use them on me this time.”

Keith nodded slowly as Lance finally crawled off of Keith’s lap and laid back against the pillow.  He looked a little apprehensive as he rubbed his long, pretty legs together, but as soon as Keith shifted onto his knees, running his palms up the length of Lance’s legs, they spread easily enough.  Keith settled into the space between Lance’s thighs, leaning away momentarily to grab the bottle of lube off Lance’s nightstand and move it somewhere more accessible. 

Keith took his time.  It was partly apprehension over diving into new territory and partly just because he could.  He couldn’t _not_ enjoy the sight in front of him – his mouth was practically watering at the sight of Lance lying here; endless bronze skin on display, cheeks flushed faintly, lips red and swollen.  The blue wave cresting against the side of Lance’s hip fit so perfectly into Keith’s palm as he ran his hand from Lance’s thigh up to the side of his ribs and back down again.  It never got old, somehow.  Seeing Lance like this.  Watching how worked up he could get from just touches and kisses.  Keith was just as bad under Lance’s influence, but there was a certain rush from being the one in charge and from seeing the way Lance responded so strongly to his touch.  From being the one responsible for the way Lance fell apart so sweetly.  He took his time so that when he slid his first, slick finger inside of Lance, he could hear that sweet gasp pierce the air.  So that when he added the second, he could hear the low, gorgeous moan of his name fall from Lance’s lips.

“Good?”

“Uh-huh,” Lance nodded, his hand on the back of Keith’s neck both firm and gentle.  His lips caught the edge of Keith’s mouth, a distracted attempt at more contact.  As if the two of them could get closer than they currently were.  Keith’s fingers curled into Lance’s prostate and Lance jolted, gripping the back of Keith’s neck as his mouth dropped open.  “ _Christ_ , Keith—”

Keith swallowed hard, trying to fight back the fire flooding his veins as he watched Lance pant in pleasure beneath him.  “You alright?”

“Jesus, that’s—do that again.”

Keith breathed out a laugh, stretching his fingers apart before curling them against Lance’s sweet spot a second time.  Lance swore, panting Keith’s name.  As his hand worked Lance open, he couldn’t stop his lips from leaving sweet, lingering kisses down the length of Lance’s neck.  Lance seemed to encourage this by tilting his head to the side, granting Keith silent permission to keep doing what he was doing. 

Lance’s face twitched in discomfort when finger number three joined the others, but Keith kept it slow, letting him acclimate to the feeling of Keith’s fingers stretching him out.  It wasn’t until Lance’s uncomfortable expression had long since morphed back into pleasure that Keith even entertained the next step.

“C’mon, babe, please,” Lance begged.  “I want it.”

“You’re ready?” Keith asked.  “You’re sure?”

Lance nodded.  “I’m ready.”

Keith still gave it a few more thrusts – a few more moments of making sure Lance was well-prepared, slicked and stretched and ready for—

Keith drew his fingers out.  Sat back on his haunches.  Dug a condom out of the drawer and fumbled with it for a moment, his fingers too slick to find purchase on the foil wrap.

“Here, let me,” Lance said, sitting up for a moment.  He pulled the condom from Keith’s hand, flipped it so he could open the end Keith hadn’t inadvertently covered in lube.  He took ahold of Keith’s neglected cock, giving a few strokes to make sure he was fully hard before rolling the condom into place with one, smooth motion.  Keith swallowed hard, fingernails digging into his palm.  Lance’s hand moved up to Keith’s cheek, stroking gently with his thumb.  “All right,” Lance said quietly, settling back against the pillows.  His lips quirked into just a hint of his trademark grin, and even just that small preview filled Keith’s stomach with butterflies.  “Let’s do this, hotshot.”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed, reaching down to steady himself – to streak even more lube across his length and line himself up with the entrance he so painstakingly prepared.  He eased inside slowly – trying to go slowly for Lance’s sake but also unable to do anything else or risk losing it then and there.  Lance was so tight and so hot and Keith was pretty sure his hands were shaking, but all he could focus on was _Lance_ and nothing else in the world fucking mattered.

Lance’s eyes were shut tight, his mouth drawn open in a pretty O.  His fingers fluttered against the back of Keith’s neck, his other hand on Keith’s bicep.  He was quiet now, just the labored sound of his breathing as lungs tried to keep up with the pounding of his chest.  “Oh _god_ , Keith, you’re—”  Lance’s fingers trailed absently through the ends of Keith’s hair.  “Big.”

Keith made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh.  “Okay.”

Lance pried one eye open, lifting the brow that went with it.  “You don’t believe me?  I’ve swallowed your dick, Keith, I _think_ I’d know.”

“I think you haven’t tried anal in three years.”

“Let’s see if it was worth the wait,” Lance hummed, shifting his hips ever so slightly to better accommodate Keith’s length.  “You’re not even all the way in yet, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Half?”

“Give or take.”

Lance let out a faint groan.  “Christ, you’re gonna kill me.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“ _No_ ,” Lance said.

“Okay, well—”

“Just… keep going,” Lance said.

“You sure?”

“Very.”

Keith rocked back, pulling nearly all the way out before pushing back in.  Keith’s mouth dropped open as he continued his careful back and forth, each time sliding a bit deeper inside of Lance.  After a few moments of this, he managed to make it all the way inside, his hips meeting flush against Lance’s ass.  “Holy shit, baby,” Keith breathed out.  “Holy shit, you feel so good.”

Lance nodded, his hips moving gently to match Keith’s motions, meeting his every thrust.  “You too.  Jesus, you’re—”

Keith shifted his hand, running it down from where it had been resting on Lance’s hip to come around the side of his knee and shift Lance’s leg to rest around his waist.  Lance keened, his mouth falling open briefly.  Keith froze for a second, uncertain whether to read the reaction as pain or pleasure.  Only when Lance lifted his other leg to join its twin in wrapping around Keith’s waist did Keith assume that was a signal to keep going.  Almost unconsciously, he lowered his lips to Lance’s neck as he found a steady pace that had both of them breathing hard.  When he found himself getting a bit too intense, he had to force himself to back away, wrapping his hand around Lance’s cock in an effort to distract himself.

“You know, I—” Lance’s breath hitched mid-sentence.  “I think you can do better than that.”

“What?”

“I _think_ you can do better than that,” Lance repeated, tapping a long finger against the spot where Keith’s mouth had been moments before.  “I know you’re a multi-tasker.”

“What do you mean?”

Lance’s hand wrapped around the back of Keith’s head, pulling him low so that his lips were once again pressed against the soft skin at the side of Lance’s neck.  “Fuck me up, sweetheart.”

“I don’t—”

“Keith,” Lance said, his voice low.  “Fuck the rules and give me a goddamn hickey.”

“Are you—”

“It’ll be a nice little conversation starter with my abuela at Thanksgiving,” Lance said, his lips curling in amusement.  “C’mon.  You know I love everything that mouth can do.”

Keith took the permission and sucked hard against Lance’s skin, pulling a breathy gasp from the man beneath him.  It took a bit of effort, but eventually the hickey began to blossom beautifully across the side of Lance’s neck, staining his flawless bronze skin to a dark purple.  Keith added two more trailing closer to the base of Lance’s neck simply because he couldn’t help himself.  Lance was addicting in a way Keith didn’t know how to handle and right now he was drowning in it.  From the increasingly pitched timbre of his voice with every airy moan to the scent of coconut and sweat and sex permeating the air to the salty taste of Lance’s skin on Keith’s tongue, everything was combining to make Keith’s head spin in a way he never wanted to stop.  He was using every ounce of willpower he had in him to keep his focus on something _other_ than the slide of his cock inside of Lance’s tight, slick heat, in the vain hope that he could drag this out longer.  It wasn’t really working.

Fortunately, Keith didn’t seem to be alone in this sentiment.  Lance was nearly wailing with every snap of Keith’s hips, his fist pressed against his mouth in a way that didn’t seem to be stopping much noise.  Not that Keith wanted the noise to stop, but a distant voice at the back of his brain noted that the dorm walls could only be so thick, and Lance’s best friend lived a matter of feet down the hallway.

It didn’t matter right now, though.  Let them hear.  Let them all hear the way Lance was crying out Keith’s name like some kind of reverent prayer.  Let them all find out their dirty little secret.  Maybe then Keith’s heart wouldn’t feel like it was about to burst out of his chest every time Lance pulled him in for a kiss.  Maybe the black hole of Keith’s guilt would finally start to recede.  Maybe their friends would never let them live it down, but maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.  Maybe Keith could tell Lance how he really felt.

“Keith, I need—” Lance was panting, clutching at whatever part of Keith he could get his hands on.  “I need to come.  _Please_.”

Keith nodded, his hand squeezing tighter around Lance’s length the way he knew he liked.  Lance’s head dropped back against the pillow, his back arching as he tried to keep his own voice down.  It didn’t take much more for him to come, painting Keith’s fingers white as his entrance pulsed tight around Keith.  Keith’s head spun, vision going white for an instant as he tried to keep it together through Lance’s climax.  Once Lance went boneless against the mattress, Keith pulled himself out, tugging off the condom and stroking himself once, twice before coming across Lance’s stomach.

Keith sat back on his haunches, breathing hard as his brain caught up with the rest of his body.  He tossed the condom in the general direction of Lance’s trash can and laid down next to Lance to finish catching his breath.

Lance almost instantly curled up against Keith, pressing his face against Keith’s bicep and leaving a gentle kiss there.  There were no words between them, for once.  Lance’s sharp wit was silenced as they soaked in their afterglow.  Keith let his gaze run over Lance’s form, stomach still sticky with their combined come, bronze skin glistening with exertion, and three purple bruises dotting Lance’s throat like the back half of Ursa Major.

And out of all the rules Keith had broken – _which was all of them_ , Keith’s brain helpfully supplied – this one seemed the most damning.  This one made the guilt in Keith’s stomach rise up to curl around his windpipe, threatening to choke him.  The other rules he could deny breaking – of _course_ he’d openly communicated with Lance and of _course_ Keith hadn’t told anyone that he and Lance were fucking and of _course_ he’d never do something as idiotic as falling for Lance.

But he _had_ left the marks on Lance’s throat and there was nothing he could say to the contrary.

And if he’d broken one rule, it would be a hard sell to convince Lance that he hadn’t broken them all.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, blowing my damn mind?” Lance asked with a scoff.

“The hickies,” Keith said.  “I shouldn’t have.”

“I asked you to,” Lance said seriously.

“I still shouldn’t have broken the rule,” Keith insisted.  “It’s—”

“They were stupid rules in the first place, Keith,” Lance said, almost laughing, and the wind left Keith’s lungs like he’d been punched in the stomach.  “No hickies? I’ve had dozens of hickies before, this isn’t any different.”

“No hickies was supposed to make it easier to keep this a secret.”

“It’s not a secret that I like to get _laid_ , Keith.”

“We only had four goddamn rules,” Keith returned, pushing himself into a sitting position.  “It’s not rocket science, it’s a simple, verbal contract.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Lance asked.

“We’re only as good as our word, Lance,” Keith bit out.  “So if I gave you my word I wouldn’t do something, and then go ahead and do it as soon as I’m given the opportunity, then what the hell good is my word?”

“I _asked you to_ ,” Lance said again.  “Sorry I’m a fucking tactile person.  It felt _good_.”

“It should have been something we talked about before I went ahead and fucking did it,” Keith insisted.  “This whole thing is a fucking Jenga tower two steps away from collapse, anyway.”

“What the fuck?” Lance asked.  “Dude, what’s _with_ you tonight?  Why are you freaking out about this?”

“Because what is this if we’re not adhering to the rules anymore, Lance?” Keith asked sharply.  “What are _we_ without those rules?”

“We’re—"

A pounding on Lance’s door startled them both, and Lance let out a groan of frustration.  “Go away, Hunk!”

“ _Inténtalo de nuevo_ , Leandro,” came the stern reply.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” Lance hissed, leaping off of the bed and scrambling to dress himself.  Keith grabbed his own pants, shoving them on as quickly as he could.  Lance franticly brushed his hair down, making sure he and Keith were both adequately dressed before he opened the door, revealing his twin standing outside with an unimpressed look on her face.  “What.”

“So rude tonight, _hermanito_ ,” Rachel drawled.  She crossed her arms over her chest and made eye contact with Keith over Lance’s shoulder.  “Mami says you haven’t answered her messages all day.”

“I haven’t _gotten_ a message from her all day,” Lance said, dropping back from the door to check his phone.  “Okay, one hour does _not_ mean all day.”

Rachel shrugged.  “You better call her.  She’s in full Thanksgiving planning mode and she’s _pissed_.”

Lance swore under his breath.  “What else does she _need_ from me?”

“She’s making sure all her ducks are in a row,” Rachel said.  “She’s got five kids, three significant others, four grandchildren, a husband, and the elderly yet spry Abuela to get on an international flight in less than twelve hours.  Ronnie’s been on the phone with her _all day_.”

“Shit.  Fine.  I’ll call her in a little while.”

“ _Now_ ,” Rachel said, holding out her already ringing cell phone.  “I’m not allowed to go home until you’ve called her.”

Lance let out another frustrated groan, snatching the phone from his sister.

“I’m leaving,” Keith said, stuffing his shoes onto his feet. Rachel stepped aside to let him pass.

“No, Keith—” Lance began, but then his mother picked up on the other end of the line and he had to respond, switching into Spanish automatically.  He tried shaking his head, signaling that Keith didn’t need to leave, but Keith was already out the door.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short, but the next one will go up within a couple of days

 Lance was in no mood to deal with his family’s bullshit right now.  After a thirty-minute lecture from his mom about how much his lack of response to her messages worried her, followed by what felt like an eternity of her running down the plan for tomorrow that he had _already heard_ three times over, he finally managed to get off the phone and toss it back toward his sister, who had made herself comfortable in his desk chair.  “Thank you for that,” Lance said flatly.

“No problem,” Rachel replies, equally flat.  She glanced up from where she was casually inspecting her fingernails to look at the door. “So what was all that about?”

Lance ignored his sister’s question as he picked up his own phone and tried calling Keith. It didn’t even ring before he was sent straight to voicemail.  He recalled Keith complaining of a low battery earlier in the evening and assumed that Keith’s phone had since died.  He still tried twice more, and each time it rolled straight into Keith’s default voicemail message.

“Leandro?” Rachel called, reminding him she had asked him a question.

“It’s none of your damn business, Chel,” Lance said, shoving his shoes onto his feet.

“He seemed pretty upset,” Rachel observed. “Trouble in paradise?”

“You don’t know shit about me and Keith,” Lance snapped.  Rachel’s brows lifted in surprise at the uncharacteristic outburst from her twin. “Just… stop acting like you do.”

“You’re basically in love with him though,” Rachel said, and there was no question in the words. “So what happened?”

“Shut up, Rachel.”  Lance snatched up the nearest sweatshirt, the burgundy one he’d never returned to Keith all those weeks ago, and headed for the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Steam filled the room from the hot water flowing from the showerhead.  Shiro’s fingers danced through Adam’s wet hair as they stood together under the spray, their lips locked in an embrace even hotter than the water.  Showering together was a luxury they didn’t often indulge in, but Keith was studying at Lance’s and Shiro had gotten off of work earlier than he anticipated and Adam was _very_ persuasive when he wanted to be.  Not that Shiro needed too much convincing.

Their relaxing evening together was interrupted by a very loud and very abrupt knock on their apartment door.  Neither of them acknowledged the first two knocks.  The third one had Adam pulling away, his gaze trailing toward the wall as if he’d be able to see through it and figure out who was there.

“They’ll go away,” Shiro hummed, his lips trailing down the curve of Adam’s jaw as his hand gripped tighter at Adam’s bare hips.

The knock sounded again, louder, and accompanied by a distinct shout.  “Keith!”

“Sounds like somebody’s in trouble,” Adam hummed.

“He’s not even here,” Shiro whined.

“Doesn’t sound like Lance knows that,” Adam said, pushing Shiro gently back.  “Go answer the door.”

“Why do I have to go?”

“He’s your Boy Wonder, Batman,” Adam said, lips curling in a teasing grin.

“He’s ruining my night,” Shiro groused, stepping out of the warm shower and drying off as quickly as possible.  He didn’t put too much effort into it, as he planned to return just as soon as he told Lance that Keith wasn’t here.  He dropped his towel to step into a pair of sweatpants and headed for the door.

He pulled it open just as Lance was raising his fist to knock again.  “Can I help you?”

“I need to talk to Keith,” Lance said. 

“He’s not here,” Shiro said, resting a forearm against the doorframe. “In fact, he said he was studying with you.”

“He left my place almost an hour ago,” Lance said. “You’re sure he’s not here?”

Shiro stepped back to let Lance inside to see for himself.  Keith’s room was dark and empty, and the only soul in the rest of the apartment was Adam, standing in the doorway of the bathroom in only a towel and a bemused expression.  Exasperation settled low in Shiro’s chest as he watched Lance stand in the empty doorway of Keith’s room, both his hands drawn up to card through his hair as if he was distressed.

“Did something happen, Lance?” Shiro asked, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

“I— I don’t know,” Lance said. “I mean, we were kind of arguing and then my sister showed up and suddenly he just left.”

“Why were you arguing?”

Lance took a deep breath. “I have no idea what brought it on.”

“It had nothing to do with the current state of your neck?” Shiro asked, flicking an unimpressed glance down to the scooped neck of his t-shirt.  It was littered with a string of dark hickies, and if Shiro’s recent suspicions about Keith’s crush were correct, Keith had probably seen them and gotten outrageously jealous.

Lance slapped his hand over the spot instinctively, his face flushing hot almost instantly.  Shiro knew he’d hit the nail on the head.

“Takashi, stow the shovel talk until we figure out where the hell your Boy Wonder even is,” Adam said, rounding the corner from the living room with his arms crossed.

“Let’s give him some more time to make it home before we jump to conclusions,” Shiro said.  “He might have just taken the long way. Or gone to the library.”

“Library closed at 7 for the break,” Lance said absently. “Listen, uh… just let me know? If he comes home?  I need to talk to him.  Even if it’s just… finishing that argument.”

Shiro nodded slowly.  “Okay.”

“Thanks,” Lance said, slowly backing toward the door before turning and practically bolting down the stairs.

Shiro and Adam shared a glance.

“They’re sleeping together, right?” Adam asked.

Shiro shrugged.  “I was kind of assuming it was a mutual crush neither of them were acting on.”

“Hm.”  Adam paused a moment, then strode across the room to open the window.  “Hey! Lance!”

Lance glanced up from the sidewalk below.

“Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Lance chuckled, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.  “Bit late on that warning, dude,” he called back, before he lowered his gaze and took off at a brisk walk toward his dorm.

Adam pulled his head back inside, closing the window and turning back toward his boyfriend.  “They’re definitely sleeping together.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lance pushed his way into his sisters’ apartment well after midnight with his suitcase in hand and a confused Hunk and Pidge in tow.  “I’m here and I brought my friends.”

“Chel said you’re in crisis,” Veronica said, coming out of her bedroom to greet her house guests.  “Did you find him?”

“Rachel needs to mind her business,” Lance said.  “And no, I didn’t.”

“If I apologize for interrupting your domestic dispute, will you stop being such an ass?” Rachel asked from her spot in the living room, where she had her head resting in her girlfriend, Ina’s, lap.  Ina had her nose in a book, one of her hands carding absently through Rachel’s hair.

“If you also stop pretending you know anything about it, yeah, I will,” Lance retorted.

“Why are _we_ here?” Pidge asked.

“I need moral support,” Lance said, collapsing onto the sofa.  “Hunk, come cuddle me.”

Veronica rolled her eyes, heading back into her bedroom.  Pidge perched on the arm of the sofa as Hunk sat down next to Lance and patted his arm comfortingly.

“Are you gonna tell us what’s wrong, buddy?”

“Keith and I are fuckbuddies and I might have irreparably damaged our friendship.”

“Ronnie, you owe me ten bucks!” Rachel shouted.

“That specific admission does not constitute a win for you, Chelita,” Veronica called back.

“I hate all of you,” Lance muttered, slumping down against Hunk’s arm.  “Except you, Hunk, you’ve never done anything wrong in your life.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

“Babe, tell Leandro he’s offended you,” Rachel prompted, lifting her hand to pat Ina on the cheek.  Ina merely licked her thumb and turned her page.

“How long have you been sleeping together?” Pidge asked.

“I dunno, a couple months.”

“A couple _months_?!” Veronica exclaimed, coming out of her room with her hands on her hips.  “But you’re _awful_ at keeping secrets.”

“Thanks,” Lance said flatly.

“I mean it wasn’t _that_ big a secret,” Pidge said, thumbing their glasses further up their nose.  “I’ve known for a few weeks.”

“You _what_?” Lance asked.

“You’re not _that_ subtle,” Pidge said.  “You keep using studying as an excuse but the only class you dummos have together is gender and sexuality.”

“Oh my god,” Rachel groaned, slapping her hand over her face.

”Also I tricked Keith into confessing to me.”

“Listen,” Lance said, sitting up again and pointing a finger at Pidge.  “You make it sound like the only reason we started sleeping together is because we’re in that stupid fucking class together, which is _not_ true.”

“So why _did_ you start sleeping together?” Hunk asked.

“Because he’s hot and I’m _human_ , Hunk!”

“Yeah, that’s valid,” Veronica said, pulling in a chair from the dining room and sitting on it backwards, her arms folded over the back.  “So what _happened_?”

“Lancito caught feelings,” Rachel said, like it was obvious.  “What else?”

“I told you to stop that,” Lance glowered, and Rachel had the decency to close her mouth.  Lance glanced at Veronica before looking down at his hands.  “We kind of had these rules? And I kind of asked him to break one of them, and he _did_ , but then he flipped out and started talking about how breaking one rule meant—” Lance stopped, his jaw working but his lips falling shut.  “Uh, and then Rachel came in and Keith just _left_ because he’s the flightiest bitch I’ve ever met in my life.”

“What rules did you have?” Veronica asked.

“I’m not telling you that,” Lance said.

“What rule did you ask him to _break_?” Pidge asked.

Lance made a vague gesture to his neck.  “Visible marks.”

“Oh my god, that explains so many things,” Rachel whispered.

“And _why_ did you ask him to break it?” Hunk asked.

Lance was silent, but his gaze immediately locked with Rachel, who wisely stayed silent.

“What are you gonna do, Lance?” Pidge asked after a few moments of silence.

“I’m gonna fucking talk to him, as soon as I can fucking _find_ him.”  Lance tucked his feet up under him, legs crossed, elbow wedged against his knee, and chin resting in his hand.  “I just wish he’d text me back.  We’re supposed to leave for the airport in a few hours.”

“Can’t you just call him tomorrow from Varadero?” Hunk asked.

Lance shook his head.  “I’m not doing that over the _phone_.”

“And he didn’t go home?”

“No,” Lance groaned.  “I asked Shiro and Adam to let me know when he came home, so either they’re both on Keith’s side or he didn’t go home last night.”

“Then just talk to him when you get back,” Hunk said.

Lance sighed, his whole body listing to the side.  “Maybe.  I don’t know.  He seemed really upset.  I don’t want to leave knowing he’s upset.”

“That’s gay.”

“Pidge!”

“It _is_ ,” Pidge retorted.

Lance’s phone rang and he sat bolt upright, reading the display output.  It wasn’t Keith – nor was it Shiro or Adam.  No, it was…

“Hello?”

_“Hello, Lance.  It’s Krolia.”_

“Yeah, I—Hi, Krolia,” Lance said.  “What’s up?”

_“Keith asked me to, and I quote, ‘Call Shiro or Adam or somebody and tell them I’m not dead in a ditch’.  So I am calling ‘somebody’ as requested.”_

“I’m… somebody?”

_“Yes, that was my reasoning.”_

“Is he at your house?” Lance asked.

_“Yes he is.”_

“Um… did he tell you anything?”

_“He told me quite a bit, yes.”_

“Oh.”

 _“Please talk to him, Lance,”_ Krolia said.

“Are you sure that’s okay?  I mean… if he went all the way to your house, I think that maybe he’s avoiding me.”

 _“He is,”_ Krolia confirmed.  _“He’s also terrified of talking to you about the reasons that led him to showing up on my doorstep at midnight, but if he doesn’t talk to you now, he’s going to convince himself not to talk to you at all, and that won’t be good for any of us.”_

“Hey Krolia?”

_“Yes?”_

“How much is ‘quite a bit’?”

_“Good night, Lance.”_

“Yeah, okay.”

_“Please talk to my son.”_

“I will.  I promise.”

_“Thank you.”_

Lance hung up the phone, mouth twisting pensively.

“Was that Keith’s mom?” Hunk asked.

“Yeah.  Hey Ron, can you drop me off in Marmora Heights on the way to the airport?”

Veronica lifted her brows.  “You’ll miss the flight.”

“This is more important, Ronnie,” Lance said.

“Mama will be pissed,” Veronica said.

“ _Way_ more important,” Lance repeated. 

Veronica pursed her lips, looking toward Rachel for back-up that wasn’t there before her gaze finally landed back on Lance.  “Alright.  You better hope it goes well, though, because I’m not picking you up.”


	18. Chapter 18

Keith had _meant_ to go home after leaving Lance’s, but his subconscious had other ideas.  Instead of turning right toward his apartment, he’d turned left and wound up at the bus station.  He’d purchased a ticket and dozed for the entire trip, his phone dead in his jacket pocket.  He woke just as the bus was pulling into its final destination.  From there Keith simply walked, hands tucked in his pockets as he watched the moon rise high into the sky.

Keith had a key, but he knocked anyway.  It took a minute, but his mother answered the door, her bathrobe pulled tightly around her slight frame to shield her against the chilly November air.  If she was surprised to see Keith, she didn’t mention it and simply stepped back to let him in the house and headed for the kitchen.  Keith slumped into one of the stools at the breakfast bar, his chin in his hand as he watched his mother put the kettle on the stove.  Once it was heating, she leaned against the counter opposite Keith, her hands folded between them.  “What’s wrong, baby?”

The question broke the dam of Keith’s emotions and he had to bury his face in his hands as tears welled up in his eyes.  His throat burned, rendering him incapable of answering for the moment as all that would come out was a single, choked sob.  Krolia sighed compassionately, coming around the bar to wrap her arms around her son.  Keith let her, knowing his tears were soaking into the fabric of her robe but also knowing that she didn’t care in the slightest.  After a few minutes, Keith sniffled and let out a cracked, “I fucked up, Mom.”

Krolia pushed Keith’s bangs back from his forehead and pressed a kiss to the skin there.  “Is it about that boy?”

Keith could only nod.

“How about I finish the tea, and you tell me the whole story from the beginning,” Krolia suggested.  “Okay?”

Keith nodded, sitting back and running the heel of his hand across his face in an effort to compose himself.  He watched as his mother worked, efficiently preparing them twin mugs of Earl Grey tea before sliding one across the counter to Keith.

She settled into her stool, settling her slender hands around her hot mug and waiting for Keith to be ready.  He appreciated that about her.  She didn’t push too hard.  She always seemed to believe that Keith would come around in his own time.  So far she had always been right.

They’d butted heads a lot when he was younger, but there was no one in the world Keith would prefer to come to with his problems.  His mother had a way of making things seem less overwhelming.  Like everything really _would_ be okay.  So far she had always been right about that, too.

“So, uh, Lance and I have been sleeping together,” Keith began.  His cheeks felt a little hot, admitting it to his mother, but she simply watched him with a passive expression that told him she was listening, not judging.  “It started at this party a couple weeks into this semester.  It was just supposed to be casual.  No strings attached.”

Keith recounted the whole story for his mother; from how Lance had thought Keith was pretentious and arrogant to the way they’d agreed to put it behind them; how they’d kissed at the party and the kiss had turned into much, much more; how they’d put their rules in place to keep the arrangement casual and how Keith had proceeded to break each and every one of them with a systematic precision.  He told her about the way Lance lit up every room he entered; the way the sound of his voice echoed through Keith’s chest like a second heartbeat; the way he was so casually and effortlessly _himself_ every moment of every day.  He told her about the moment he’d realized his crucial mistake and how he’d left without really talking it through because he was in so far over his head that he didn’t know how to do anything else.  He told her everything, and when he was finished, there was a long moment of silence as they both processed Keith’s confessions.

“That sure sounds like a pickle you’ve found yourself in,” Krolia said.  Her dark gaze pierced through Keith like a knife.  “What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” Keith said, staring at the last dregs of tea in the bottom of his mug as he rolled the question over in his mind.

“Do you want it to be over? Is that easier for you?” Krolia asked.

Keith shook his head.

“But you don’t want to tell him how you feel?”

“He _told_ me not to fall in love with him,” Keith said.  “He only asked two things of me and I couldn’t even adhere to _one_ of them.”

“It’s better to come clean now than let it fester even longer,” Krolia said.  “What’s the alternative? If you don’t tell him, it’ll drive you two even further apart.”

“Better than laying my fucking heart out so he can step on it,” Keith muttered.

“Can I ask you something?”

Keith nodded.

“You two are friends,” Krolia said.  “I’d imagine you know a thing or two about him.  Do you know something that bothers him?  One of his weak spots?”

“He doesn’t like when people call him stupid,” Keith said softly.  “When they think he’s an airhead just because he’s loud and sometimes doesn’t catch on the quickest.”

“Would you ever use his weak spots against him?”

Keith shook his head. “No.”

“What if you didn’t like him romantically?  Would you do it then?”

“No, of course not.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s my friend,” Keith said.

“You’re his friend, too, Keith,” Krolia said solemnly, before picking up her tea.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith tried to make himself comfortable in his old bed that night, but between the creaking springs of the mattress and whirlwind of emotions swirling through him, sleep did not come easily.  He wished he’d never let it go this far, though he couldn’t fathom sacrificing a single moment he’d shared with Lance. He blamed himself for everything, and even if Lance found it in his heart to forgive Keith and remain friends, Keith wasn’t sure he could forgive himself.  Nothing would ever be the same, that much was for damn sure.

His brain sent him in circles, imagining one moment a happy ending to this drama where Lance came and swept him off his feet and told him he could imagine being with him for the rest of his life, and then the next moment imagining in vivid detail the disgust in Lance’s face as he told Keith he was only in it for the sex – nothing more, nothing less.  This vicious cycle repeated itself over and over, with each fantasy becoming increasingly hopeless until Keith knew he was just destroying himself pointlessly.  Lance didn’t have a cruel bone in his body, but the idea of him trying to break it gently was so much worse somehow.

It was approaching sunrise when Keith couldn’t take another restless moment in the squeaky old bed and drew himself out to the living room. He made a cup of tea and curled up in the chair next to the window, watching snow fall in the pre-morning air.  His mother was still asleep and likely would be for a while yet, so Keith slumped deeper in the chair, wishing he knew how to shut out his own thoughts.

He was so deep in his own mind that he was absolutely certain he’d imagined the knock on the door.  That is, until the second one came and drew him out of his own thoughts and sent him shuffling across cold hardwood to the front door.  He _definitely_ thought he was imagining Lance standing on the step, but the fine details – the snow clinging to his wind-tossed brown hair, the dark circles under his blue eyes, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of Keith’s favorite hoodie – told Keith that this was not a figment of his overworked brain. 

“We need to talk,” Lance said.

“What are you doing here?”

“Krolia told me you were here,” Lance said.

“I told her to call Shiro or some…one,” Keith said, realizing his mistake even as he said it aloud.  “Of course she called you.”

“I don’t want to fight with you, Keith, I just want to know what’s wrong.”

Oh god, Lance was here.  Lance had _come here_ to try and fix things because he didn’t know what Keith had done.  God, Keith was the scum of the Earth, wasn’t he?  There was no way in hell he deserved someone as kind and genuine as Lance. Not even as a friend.

“I—” Keith glanced behind him, down the hall toward where his mother’s room was.  She was a light sleeper and Keith needed no more witnesses than were absolutely required for the conversation about to take place.  “Give me two minutes? We can take a walk. My mom’s sleeping.”

Lance nodded, stepping back from the door as Keith carefully closed it and headed for his room, pulling on a pair of socks and the warmest jacket he had.  He grabbed a second jacket on instinct before he shoved his shoes onto his feet and slipped out the front door.

Keith handed Lance the second jacket. “Why didn’t you bring a coat?”

“The car was warm,” Lance said, shrugging into the garment.  “And it wasn’t snowing when I left.”

Keith swallowed hard as Lance settled into the jacket and the two of them started down the sidewalk, side by side.

“So I’m kind of hazy with what exactly happened,” Lance said. “But I know something upset you and I just need to know if it was something I did.”

Keith shook his head. “No, it— it wasn’t your fault.”

“Did it have something to do with the hickies, ‘cuz that’s— I _like_ hickies, Keith,” Lance said. “The only reason I made it a rule was ‘cuz I couldn’t come up with anything else on the spot and you had two ready to go.” Lance’s shoe scuffed through the sprinkling of snow littering the sidewalk.

Keith’s heart did a strange fluttering in his chest and he couldn’t quite tell if it was good or bad. “It’s…” Keith pauses, measuring his words carefully.  “It’s more about the boundaries.”

“So… should we stop? Because I’d rather stop sleeping with you than us stop being friends because of this,” Lance said.

“Really?”

Lance nodded. “For sure.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple though,” Keith said after a moment. Too many things weighed too heavily on his chest and in the soft light of dawn, time felt just suspended enough that Keith wouldn’t break on the spot if he admitted them.

“Why not?”

“I broke the rules,” Keith said.

“You broke _one_ rule because I asked you to,” Lance said.  “That’s not a blood crime, Keith.  Yeah, okay, we should have talked about it outside of the moment, but I don’t regret it.  It was my least favorite rule, anyway.”

“You don’t understand,” Keith said quietly.  He sucked in a deep breath, holding it there for a moment as he tried to push the words up from where they were desperately clinging in Keith’s throat.  “I broke more than one rule, Lance.”

Lance barely hesitated a second.  “Its not the end of the world.”

“Lance.  I broke  _all_  the rules,” Keith prompted.  “Like, we made the rules up to protect us, and I just barreled through them like a fucking steamroller.

“I mean, they weren’t really even your fault,” Lance said. “Like keeping it a secret is tough. I broke that one too. My sisters made a goddamn bet over us.”

“ _All_ of them, Lance,” Keith prompted, because really – Keith couldn’t even fathom why Lance was even _here_ , and why the hell he was still trying to make Keith of all people feel better about his indiscretions.

“Dude, I’m gonna tell you point blank that I don’t even _remember_ the damn rules,” Lance said.  “So until I get some fucking insight on whatever wrong you think you’ve committed toward me, I’m gonna stick to my guns and say I really don’t care about you breaking the rules.”

Keith’s jaw dropped open and he took a step back, turning to face Lance.  “Are you fucking kidding me, Lance?”

Lance threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender.  “We came up with those rules _months_ ago,” Lance said.  “And I had a hot guy verbally expressing his intention to suck my dick, so forgive me for not writing them down.”

Keith ran his hands through his hair, tugging tightly at the strands.  “Oh my _god_ ,” Keith muttered.  “You have no fucking clue what’s going on.”

“Dude, I _promise_ you, I don’t care about whichever rule has you wound up so tight.”

Keith glared fiercely at Lance.  “How would you know? You don’t _remember_ them.”

Lance sighed, dropping his head back and swearing at the sky under his breath.  “Fine.  Okay.  Rule one was keeping it a secret, right?  I already broke that.  I broke that so hard.  Rule two was, uh—"

“Communication,” Keith prompted. 

“Everyone sucks at communication,” Lance said.  “And you know what? I definitely broke that one, so we’re even steven right there.”

“Hardly,” Keith muttered.

“Rule three was the hickies one,” Lance said.  “My rule.  Couldn’t give less of a shit about it, honestly, because I only said it ‘cuz I didn’t think I’d get to fuck you more than once.  Definitely not a rule I was interested in sustaining long-term because I am _the_ most tactile person I’ve ever met and if you touch my neck I’m basically putty in your hands.”

“Yeah, I noticed that,” Keith said, running the back of his hand under his nose.  It was starting to freeze from the cold.

“Plus if you gave me the chance, your neck would never be the same color again,” Lance added.  “So there – we’re both filthy rule-breakers.  We’re even.”

“That’s not even _close_ to being even, Lance,” Keith insisted, his stomach twisting into knots inside of him.  “Because you fucking _missed one_.”

“What rule am I missing?!” Lance exclaimed.  “Keith, _please_ , I’m just trying to understand what’s wrong.”

Keith crossed his arms tightly over his chest, turning away and digging the heel of his shoe into the frosty grass at the edge of the sidewalk.  “Why are you even here, Lance?  You’re supposed to be on a flight right now.”

“Keith, you are so much more important to me than my trip to Cuba,” Lance said.  He reached out a hand, tugging at Keith’s arm until they were facing each other again. 

Keith yanked his arm away, the guilt monster in his stomach going absolutely apeshit.  “Stop!  Lance!  Just… can’t we just pretend none of this ever happened?”

“I’d say yes, but something gives me the feeling that you’re gonna keep acting weird about this until we talk through it,” Lance said and it was so frustratingly sensible that Keith wanted to scream.  He wanted to lie down on the frozen sidewalk and throw a tantrum like a toddler because he didn’t know how to articulate his feelings.

Keith grit his teeth, wishing he could skip this part and fast forward to the future where his heart didn’t ache so badly from the thing he was about to lose.  “I’m so sorry, Lance.  You deserve so much better than this.”

“What are you apologizing for, Keith?” Lance asked, and he looked so absolutely lost that Keith wanted to cry.  “What am I fucking missing?  What are you so afraid of?”

“I have feelings for you, Lance!” Keith choked out.  He wanted to slap a hand over his mouth, but once the confession started, the words just kept flowing.  “And I _know_ it’s not what you wanted and I thought I could do this without my feelings getting in the way but I can’t, Lance. I’ve been killing myself trying to keep it inside because I didn’t want to fuck up what we had but I can’t _do_ it.”

Keith turned away, unable to look Lance in the eye now that his secret was out.  He didn’t want to see the way Lance would look at him now.  Tears stung the back of his eyes but he didn’t want to cry in front of Lance.

 “How long?”

“What does it matter?” Keith asked bitterly.

“Just… answer the question, Keith.”

“I don’t know,” he said miserably.  “I know I’ve had a crush on you basically since we started.”

“God,” Lance breathed out and Keith steeled himself for what was next.  The break.  The part where Lance told him this was never what he’d wanted and that he wasn’t interested in taking their relationship anywhere serious. 

“I’m sorry,” Keith repeated, unable to do anything else.  “I’m so sorry, Lance.”

“Will you look at me?”

“I can’t,” Keith said.  “Just say it.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Some polite bullshit about how we can still be friends, but we’re done sleeping together because you’ll never look at me the same way again,” Keith said.  “Or just say you never want to see me again,” Keith choked out as the first tear started it slow trek down his cold, red cheek.  “Say you hate me.”

“Please look at me, Keith?”

Keith swallowed hard, forcing himself to turn toward Lance.  “Just say it.”

Lance’s hands came up, cradling Keith’s face so very gently, pulling his gaze up to meet Lance’s.  At this proximity, Keith could see his pretty blue eyes flooded with tears.  “Keith, I’ve been head over heels for you for months.  I’ve had a crush on you since the day I _met_ you and even though I was devastated that you didn’t remember me and I tried to start that stupid rivalry with you, there was never a second where I wasn’t completely infatuated with you.”

 “But…” Keith tried to fit the pieces into place.  “You said you didn’t want to get feelings involved.”

“I only went along with the ‘no strings’ thing because I thought that’s what you were looking for,” Lance said.  “I would have asked you out ages ago if you hadn’t said dating wasn’t your thing.”

Keith’s eyes widened as he took a jerky step back, away from Lance’s touch. “Your first fucking rule when we started this was ‘don’t fall in love with me’, and you expect me to believe that you _liked_ me even back then?”

“That’s…” Lance looked unsure whether to laugh or cry.  “Oh my god, _that’s_ the fourth rule?”

“You said it was!”

“Keith, that’s a stupid line I use on people who are way out of my league.  If anything, it’s supposed to be reverse psychology.  It wasn’t an _actual rule_.”

“Then why did you say it?!”

“I was nervous!” Lance exclaimed. “Keith you are… the most incredible guy I’ve ever met. There was no way I was expecting to get as far as I did that night and— God, I was _freaking_ the fuck out and running my mouth when I should have kept it shut.”

“You…” Keith’s brain felt like it was running a marathon just trying to keep up. “You really like me?”

“So fucking much, Keith,” Lance said.

There was no goddamn way this was real.  There was no way this was happening.  Keith was dreaming.  Keith couldn’t do anything except stare.  “What the hell?”

Lance’s head dropped back as he barked out a sharp laugh toward the sky.  “Jesus Christ, we really are awful at communication, aren’t we?”

Keith’s jaw was still floundering, trying to figure out what the next step even was, but then Lance stepped forward and slid his hand around the side of Keith’s neck, pulling him in close.

“I have feelings for you, too, Keith,” Lance said, his voice soft and serious.  “And I’m so sorry that I waited so long to tell you that.  And I’m sorry I made a stupid joke when I was nervous, because that just fucked this whole situation up even worse.  I’m sorry that I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me how you felt.”

“I’m sorry I kept so many secrets,” Keith whispered, hesitantly looking up to meet Lance’s gaze.  “I’m sorry I ran away last night instead of being honest.  And for making you miss your flight.”

“This was more important,” Lance said.  “You’re more important.”

Keith watched Lance’s earnest, beautiful expression and couldn’t think of a single thing more selfless than Lance giving up a trip to his favorite place in the world to stand here in the snow with Keith.  He could feel his expression crumple at Lance’s words, a sob working its way up from his chest to seize at his throat.

“Oh honey, don’t cry,” Lance said, his voice pitching with concern.  “If you cry, I’m gonna cry.”

“Then I guess we’re both crying,” Keith said, sniffling.  “I can’t believe I’ve been driving myself crazy with guilt for two months because I took a pick-up line too seriously.”

Lance let out a shaky little laugh, sniffling as well.  “We’re a mess.”

“Can we be a mess together?” Keith asked.

“Oh my god, yes, please,” Lance said, pressing his forehead against Keith’s.

“As boyfriends?”

Lance nodded, his eyes still a bit watery.  “As boyfriends.”

“I love you, Lance.”

Lance looked like the words took a moment to fully sink in, but as they did, a beaming smile spread across his face.  “I love you too, Keith.  I love you so much.”

Keith surged up, capturing Lance’s lips with his own.  It was familiar – practiced – but felt so very different now that Keith wasn’t hiding how he really felt.  Lance’s warm touch spread across Keith’s skin like wildfire, almost making him forget how cold it was outside.  After a minute, however, Keith pulled back, his cold nose resting against Lance’s.  “We should go back,” Keith said.  “It’s cold as balls out here.”

“Yeah, I’m good with that,” Lance chuckled breathlessly.  “Also my sisters dropped me off on their way to the airport, so I don’t have a ride back to ASU.”

“Guess you’re stuck with me,” Keith said, a sly smile crossing his face as he wove his fingers through Lance’s.

Lance turned to press a kiss to Keith’s cold cheek.  “There’s no place I’d rather be, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one more chapter because honestly I gotta send this one out with a bang.


	19. Chapter 19

They found their way back into Krolia’s house, tip-toeing in their stocking feet as they stripped off their jackets and Keith retrieved the biggest, fluffiest comforter he could find in the house.  They made it to the sofa, where they curled up together and Keith spread the blanket out over both of them.  Keith settled with his legs draped over Lance’s lap, their frozen fingers woven together and their lips casually reacquainting between whispered words and hushed laughter.

“Shiro was so pissed off,” Lance giggled.  “He left, like, an angry puddle right in the entry-way.”

Keith rolled his eyes, the smile never for a moment leaving his lips.  “I bet Adam was dying laughing.”

“I can’t read him very well, but he seemed to think the whole thing was hilarious,” Lance confirmed.  “He kept referring to you as Shiro’s ‘boy wonder’?”

“Yeah, he does that,” Keith said.  “He saw super old pictures of me and Shiro one Halloween when we were Batman and Robin.”

“Oh my god, are those pictures in this house, because I _will_ find them,” Lance said, moving as if he was going to get up and search for them.

“Nooo,” Keith giggled, squeezing his limbs tighter around Lance to keep him in place.  “I’ll find them for you later.”

“Thought you didn’t do Halloween,” Lance said, pressing a tender kiss to Keith’s forehead before settling back into his previous position.

“Not since I was little,” Keith said.  “My dad was always the one who took me trick-or-treating, and after he died, I didn’t really see the appeal.”

“How old were you?”

“Seven,” Keith said.  “Actually, Batman and Robin might have been the last Halloween I dressed up.”

“Jesus,” Lance said, resting his head against Keith’s neck.  “I’m sorry, Keith.”

Keith shrugged lightly, careful not to jostle Lance too hard.  “It was a long time ago.”

“I’m sure it still hurts.”

“Sometimes,” Keith admitted.  “He was a good dad.”

“He made a pretty great kid, so…” Lance trailed off, smiling up at Keith until Keith leaned down to kiss him.

“What about your family?” Keith asked.

“What about them?” Lance asked.

Keith shrugged.  “Do your sisters think I’m weird?”

“You’re a little weird,” Lance pointed out playfully, pulling a wry smile out of Keith.  “Chel really does think you’re the bee’s knees, though,” Lance added a moment later.  “And Ronnie thinks you’re cute.”

Keith’s nose wrinkled as Lance laughed.  “Cute like the puppy my sister-in-law adopted,” Lance amended.  “I think Ronnie put her money on you being the first one to confess your feelings, so she’ll be thrilled.”

“They really bet on us?” Keith asked.

Lance nodded.  “My family all up in each other’s business.  And now that you’re involved, they’ll try to be all up in yours.  You can either play with them, or you can tell them to fuck off.  They won’t be offended.  They’ll all like you regardless.”

“My dad would have liked you,” Keith offered.  “And you _know_ my mom does.”

Lance grinned, leaning up to kiss the underside of Keith’s jaw.  “Yeah, Momma K and I are tight.”

Keith rolled his eyes, stealing another kiss from Lance’s lips as he settled his limbs even closer around him.  “You two are dangerous together.”

“Well, you and Chel teaming up is my nightmare,” Lance responded.  “So we probably even out.”

“You sure you don’t want to catch another flight?” Keith asked.  “My mom would drive you, for sure.”

Lance shook his head, his forehead nuzzling affectionately against Keith’s neck.  “Nope.  Wanna stay right here.”

Keith buried his smile in Lance’s hair.  “Okay.”

“I think I left my suitcase in the trunk of my sister’s car.”

“I didn’t even pack a suitcase,” Keith said.

“I think I still have cum my belly button to be honest with you,” Lance snickered.  “It’s been a really long night.”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Keith snorted.  “Do you want to shower?”

“Later,” Lance murmured.  He pressed his lips gently against Keith’s pulse and let out a deep breath.  “Just want to stay with my super amazing boyfriend and take a nap while I leech all your body heat.”

Lance fell asleep much more quickly than Keith did.  As tired as he was, he couldn’t stop trying to memorize this moment.  He wanted to remember the exact way that Lance’s head was pillowed on Keith’s chest, and how the warmth soaking into Keith’s skin spread far deeper than simple body heat.  Keith nuzzled his cheek against Lance’s soft hair and breathed deeply, more content than he’d felt in a long time.

When Keith woke, it was to a silent house and a gentle, rhythmic tap against his thigh. It was such a soft touch that Keith knew it wasn’t the thing to have woken him, but it signaled that Lance was also awake.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” Lance said, his soft murmur drifting up almost quietly enough that Keith might have missed it if the house wasn’t so quiet.  Lance shifted ever so slightly, tucking his body even closer against Keith’s side.  “Sounds nice.”

Keith kissed the top of Lance’s head, swallowing hard against the lump threatening to lodge itself in Keith’s windpipe.

“What’s wrong?” Lance asked, lifting his head to meet Keith’s eyes.

Keith shook his head.

“You sure?”

“I’ve never done this before,” Keith said quietly, praying his voice didn’t crack with emotion.  “I’m kind of terrified to fuck it up.”

“Hey, you’re not gonna fuck it up,” Lance said sincerely.  “Promise.”

“What if I suck at being a boyfriend?”

“You won’t,” Lance said.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Lance said.

Keith shook his head, ducking his gaze so he didn’t have to look at Lance.

“Keith,” Lance said, nudging Keith’s chin back up with his hand.  “Honey.  Don’t worry, okay?”

“This is so much more scary than if we’d broken up last night,” Keith said.

“Maybe,” Lance hummed quietly.  “But you’re telling me about it, which means we’ve already made so much fucking progress from where we were yesterday.  You get me?”

Keith nodded.

“So maybe I don’t _know_ that you won’t fuck up,” Lance said gently.  “In fact, we’re both gonna fuck up.  Probably a lot.  But I think if we can agree to be a little bit understanding with each other, and keep _talking_ about the things we fuck up, that we’ll wind up okay.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Keith said quietly.

“And I don’t deserve you,” Lance said.  “But you make me so goddamn happy, Keith, and I want to do literally anything to give that happiness back to you.”

Keith felt tears stinging at the back of his eyes, but they were good tears.  He leaned down to catch Lance’s lips in a gentle kiss, trying to figure out how exactly to deal with the overflowing feeling of tenderness he felt in his chest.  Lance tilted his head to kiss back, slotting their mouths perfectly together and returning Keith’s affection with an equally soft measure of his own. 

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Krolia proclaimed, striding into the living room.  Keith startled slightly, drawing back from Lance’s mouth to look toward his mother.  She was fully dressed for the day, her hair tied low at the nape of her neck as she took in the two young men on her sofa with a knowing look in her eye.  “Welcome back to the waking world.”

“Hi Momma K!” Lance exclaimed, beaming as if they hadn’t been caught kissing on the sofa by his boyfriend’s mom.

“Lance,” Krolia said, inclining her head in greeting.  “I appreciate your timeliness.”

Lance grinned.  “I was well-motivated.”

“Good,” Krolia said, one of her eyebrows flicking upwards in approval.  She moved through the living room and disappeared into the kitchen, followed by the sound of ceramic clinking against ceramic chiming through the air.  Lance leaned in to steal another kiss from Keith while she was out of the room, drawing back after a few seconds with a wink.

“Do you have work today, Mom?” Keith called, leaning his head back to look toward the kitchen.

“In an hour,” Krolia said, returning from the kitchen with a cup of tea.  “I’m sure the two of you had an exhausting evening.”

“And an exhausting morning,” Lance added.

“Your friends have been outside for twenty minutes or so,” Krolia said.  “They haven’t accepted my invitations to come inside.”

“Oh man,” Lance said, pushing himself into an upright position.  “Shit, they’re probably worried about us.  I should have texted them.”

 Lance stood from the sofa and headed for the window.  He waved franticly for a moment before turning back and opening the front door.  Hunk and Pidge scurried inside, knocking the snow off their boots on the front step before entering.  “I’m so sorry, guys, you didn’t have to come all the way out here.”

“No problem,” Hunk grinned.  “I’m glad you guys are alright.”

“I can’t believe you _ran away_ ,” Pidge said, their gaze laser-focused on Keith.

Keith tossed his hands in the air.  “I was dealing with a lot of emotions, okay?”

Pidge rolled their eyes.  “Stupid.”

“We weren’t sure if you’d need a ride home or anything,” Hunk said.  “Or we brought you a bag, if you’d rather stay.  Ronnie said you left your suitcase in her car.”

Lance turned to glance at Keith.  “Whaddaya think, babe?”

“I didn’t _bring_ anything, so…” Keith trailed off with a shrug.  “We can get out of my mom’s hair.”

Krolia was sipping her tea, watching quietly from her spot leaning against the wall.  “No trouble on my end.”

Keith pushed himself off the sofa, stretching his arms out until he heard a satisfying pop from somewhere along his spine.  He headed for his mom, wrapping his arms around her in a hug.  “Thanks, Mom.”

“Any time, Keith,” she replied, kissing the side of his forehead.  “I’m proud of you.”

“Are you still able to come out for Thanksgiving?” Keith asked, moving to tug his shoes on his feet.

Krolia nodded.  “I’ll be there bright and early Thursday morning.”

Lance, already in his sneakers, crossed the room to hug Krolia as well.  “Love you, Momma K.”

Krolia smiled.  “Be good to him, Lance.”

“Cross my heart,” Lance said, drawing an X over his chest with his index finger.

Hunk tilted his head as Lance reapproached the door.  “Is that Keith’s sweatshirt?”

Pidge rolled their eyes dramatically.  “This is a thing now, Hunk.  They’re going to be gross and sappy and up in each other’s business and we’ll never say their names independently of one another again.”

“Categorically false,” Lance argued.

“You want shotgun, Lance?” Pidge asked.

“No, I’m gonna ride in the back so I can sit in my boyfriend’s lap,” Lance replied.

Pidge swung an arm toward Lance, their gaze trained on Hunk.  “Case in point.”

“Guys, just look at him,” Lance said, wrapping an arm around Keith’s waist to draw him close.  “How am I supposed to resist him now that I know he _likes_ me?”

Keith shoved a hand in Lance’s face, his own cheeks flushing red.  “Can we go?”

“Drive safe,” Krolia said.

“Will do!” Hunk called, and the four of them trailed out of the house and into Hunk’s well-loved station wagon.

The ride back didn’t seem as long as it really was, not when Keith was pressed against Lance’s side as Lance expressively retold the events of the previous night (and morning) for their friends.  For all that Pidge was determined to give them a hard time, they and Hunk both were genuinely happy for Keith and Lance.  When they finally pulled into town, Hunk glanced in his rearview mirror.

“So where am I dropping you guys?”

“I definitely need fresh clothes,” Lance said.  “But I’m also kind of afraid to let Keith out of my sight just in case I’ve dreamed this whole thing.”

“Gay,” Pidge said.

Keith patted Lance’s chest.  “Hey.  Do what you gotta do.  You can come over after, if you want.”

“I _did_ put a bag together for you,” Hunk pointed out. 

Lance turned, leaning over the bench seat to retrieve the bag from the trunk.  He rummaged through it for a moment before turning back with a grin.  “Okay, let’s go to Keith’s.”

Hunk flicked on his blinker to head for Keith’s apartment building.  When they pulled up out front, Keith and Lance scurried out of the car toward the safety door.  Just as they reached it, Lance spun around patting at his pockets.  “Hunk!” Lance yelled, waving his hands to stop his friend from leaving the parking lot.  “I’ll meet you upstairs, Keith,” Lance called, sprinting across the parking lot toward where Hunk was waiting to turn out of the parking lot.

Keith watched him run for a moment before the cold got the better of him and he headed up the stairs.  Lance knew the security code anyway.  He trudged up the stairs and pushed his way into the apartment.

Adam was seated on the kitchen counter, his ankles crossed and a half-eaten bag of Cheetos between his knees.  Matt was seated at the counter nearby, close enough that he could share Adam’s Cheetos. They both glanced up from their phones when Keith entered.  “Sup, kid?” Adam greeted.

“Hey.”

“They found you, huh?” Matt asked.

Keith shrugged.  “My mom ratted me out.”

“Is that Keith?” Shiro’s voice rang through the apartment, followed momentarily by the man himself.  Keith stood and watched as Shiro put his hands on his hips like a disapproving parent.  “You don’t call, you don’t write? You disappear off the face of the Earth and I’m left wondering if you’re dead or alive?”

“Nice to see you too, Shiro,” Keith said.  “Sorry, didn’t think you’d miss me that much.”

“I wouldn’t have if Lance hadn’t tried beating down our front door looking for you,” Shiro said.

Keith smirked.  “I heard you were an angry puddle.”

Shiro sighed heavily.  “I take it you called him, then?”

“Nope,” Keith said.  “My phone’s dead.”

Shiro lifted a brow.  “He’s worried about you.”

“Not anymore,” Keith said.

“So you _did_ talk to him?” Shiro asked.

“Yeah, we talked.”

“And?”

Keith shrugged.  “Kind of a long story.”

“I think we have time,” Shiro said.

“I kind of wanted to take a shower,” Keith hedged, glancing toward the door where he expected Lance to burst through at any moment.

“Cliffnotes?” Matt asked. 

“He was up pacing half the night wondering if the two of you were out doing something ridiculously stupid,” Adam added.

“Fine,” Keith sighed.  “Lance skipped his trip to Cuba and drove out to Mom’s house to find me.”

“That’s a big gesture,” Adam said.

“Yep.”

“Why did you go to your mom’s in the first place?”

Keith crossed his arms.  “We had a fight.”

“About?”

Keith glanced between the three faces of his audience.  “Do I have to say it?”

“Say it so I can tell Takashi I told him so,” Adam said.

“I figured out the hard way that keeping secrets from the guy you’re fucking is a bad idea,” Keith said.

Adam looked at Shiro.  “Told you.”

Matt disguised a grin by crunching on another Cheeto.

“Especially if the secret is that you have a giant gay crush on him,” Keith added.

“Okay, there’s so much to process here,” Shiro said.  “Since when were you and Lance sleeping together?”

“Since about the time you told me I needed to make friends and get laid,” Keith said.

“See, he does take your advice, Shiro,” Matt said.

"And you didn't tell anyone?"

"Technically, I told Matt after the second time it happened," Keith said.

Matt nodded, popping another Cheeto into his mouth.  "He did."

"Though I didn't tell him it was Lance."

"He did not," Matt confirmed.  "But let's be honest, it was an easy guess."

Shiro ran his hand through his hair.  “This is why I’m going gray at twenty-six.”

There was a light tap on the door before it opened, revealing Lance popping his head in.  “Hey,” he said.  “Sorry, I left my phone in Hunk’s car.”

“Hi Lance,” Adam said.

“Hi guys,” Lance responded, coming fully into the apartment and closing the door behind him.  “I found Keith.”

“That’s pretty impressive, actually,” Adam chuckled.

Lance smirked, shoving his hands in his pockets.  “He sure didn’t make it easy on me.”

Keith rolled his eyes.  “Can I please go shower, now?  It’s been… literally one of the longest nights of my life and all I have to show for it are the bags under my eyes and the spunk in my boyfriend’s belly button.”

Matt choked on a Cheeto.

“All right, gentlemen,” Adam said, leaping off the counter and brushing orange dust off his fingers.  “Time for us to vacate the apartment.  Something about repaying Keith for all the nights he’s spent sitting in the library doing nothing?”

“I mean, I’ve recently found something better to do,” Keith muttered, pulling a sharp laugh out of Lance that he tried to stifle behind his hand.

Shiro stared at Keith with an expression somewhere between pride and disbelief.  “I’m so… Proud of you?”

Matt headed for the door, high-fiving Keith as he passed.  “Get it, dude.”

“I need to know more,” Shiro complained as Adam tried to shove him out the door.

“I’m assuming we’ll get the more detailed version out of Lance later,” Adam said.  “We’ll be back late.  Or maybe tomorrow.  Yeah, tomorrow’s good.”

Keith waggled his fingers as the others left.  As the door closed behind them, Keith grabbed Lance’s hand.  “Let’s shower.”

Lance eagerly followed after Keith, playfully helping him undress as the water heated up.  Once they were both naked, they stepped into the spray.  Lance’s hands wasted no time in sliding down to find a handful of Keith’s ass, his lips tracing a gentle line down Keith’s neck.

“Someone’s handsy,” Keith murmured, though he definitely wasn’t complaining.

“Not sorry,” Lance responded.  “Shower Keith is sexy.”

“You mean when I’ve got hair in my eyes like a wet dog?” Keith asked, leaning back far enough that he could get his head under the spray. 

“Sexy wet dog,” Lance corrected.

“That’s… not sexy,” Keith said, reaching for his shampoo.

“Shut up,” Lance said, straightening as he released Keith’s ass.  “It was a bad metaphor.  Give me your shampoo.”

Keith handed it over, watching Lance snap the cap open and lather up the soap in his hands as Keith ran a perfunctory hand across his stomach in a mediocre effort to clean himself.  Lance reached his soapy hands up to massage his fingers into Keith’s scalp, and Keith let his eyes fall shut at the pleasant touch. “You don’t have to shampoo my hair for me,” Keith mumbled, not moving an inch.

“I know,” Lance hummed.  “I just like having an excuse to touch you.”

Keith let out a pathetic noise that made Lance laugh, drizzling a bit more shampoo onto Keith’s head so he could work all the suds in.  “Give me some of that,” Keith grumbled before Lance could set the bottle down.  He followed Lance’s suit and scrubbed soap through his boyfriend’s damp hair.

“See?” Lance asked, laughing lightly.  “It’s good, isn’t it?  Step back and rinse that out.”

Keith obeyed, tilting his head back and letting the water run through his hair and rinse all the soap out.  Lance helped the endeavor along, smoothing his long fingers through Keith’s hair as he stood under the showerhead.  When Keith brought his head back down, Lance was right there, stealing a kiss from Keith’s lips with a mischievous grin.  “Your turn,” Keith said, carefully turning them so Lance could stand under the spray.  Lance easily tipped his head back, the soap quicker to disappear from his short hair than Keith’s somewhat unruly mane, but Keith still brought one of his hands up to run through Lance’s short locks. 

They’d done this once or twice before, but the focus had always been more on rinsing off the spunk and/or blowjobs under the spray.  This was so much more intimate, filling Keith’s stomach with butterflies every time his bare skin grazed Lance’s.  Lance brought his head out of the spray and leaned forward to lock lips with Keith again, kissing once, twice, before his lips slid across Keith’s jaw and down the side of his neck like he was chasing the waterdrops running down Keith’s skin.  “Can I give you a hickey?” Lance asked, nipping gently at the skin below Keith’s ear.  “You know.  So we match?”

Keith huffed out a soft laugh.  “Knock yourself out, baby.”

Lance grinned against Keith’s neck before laying a sloppy kiss against Keith’s skin, letting his teeth graze the spot before applying a firm bit of suction that weakened Keith’s knees a bit.  As Lance focused his attention on Keith’s neck, Keith’s hands began wandering south, trailing down until his fingertips were prodding at Lance’s entrance, teasing gently.  Lance let out a soft noise at the touch, his fingers tightening where they rested on Keith’s bicep.

“You’re gonna get me all excited again,” Lance said softly, the words nearly lost in the noise of the shower if his lips weren’t practically grazing Keith’s ear.

“What exactly were you trying to do to me, then?” Keith chuckled, arching his neck to encourage Lance’s ministrations.

“I didn’t say you had to stop,” Lance replied, licking a stripe across the spot where his handiwork was just starting to bloom into a pale bruise on Keith’s skin.

Keith helped himself to a handful of body wash to assist in his efforts, slowly working Lance back open with first one finger, and then a second.  Keith noted that the attention to his neck got sloppier the longer he worked his fingers in and out of Lance’s hole, and when he finally curled his fingers into Lance’s prostate, he was rewarded with a sharp whimper and two firm hands pushing him away.

“Alright, we are not fucking in the shower,” Lance said, his voice wavering ever so slightly.  He turned just far enough to shut off the water and shoved the shower curtain out of the way.  “Bed, now.”

Keith chuckled, pressing his lips against the hinge of Lance’s jaw before he stepped out of the shower to towel off.  Lance followed suit, running a towel through his hair in an effort to dry himself as much as possible before he grabbed Keith’s hand and physically dragged him toward the bedroom.

Keith sat down on the edge of the bed only to be immediately accosted with a lap full of boyfriend, intent on dragging their mouths together as sloppily as possible.  Lance licked deeply into Keith’s mouth, rolling his hips into Keith at the same time.  “Lube,” Lance commanded, sucking in a breath of air before returning to his previous mission.  Keith stretched out an arm to blindly search for the bottle in question, finally having to push Lance gently back so he could find the damn thing.

Lance shifted, spreading his legs to grant Keith access, but Keith instead reached behind himself with his slicked up fingers to stretch out his own entrance.  Lance’s brows lifted at the sight.  “Oh, okay.”

“Wanna ride you first,” Keith said, rolling his hips down onto his own fingers.  “Then I’ll fuck you.”

“Jesus,” Lance breathed out, his lower lip catching harshly between his teeth.  “That sounds ambitious.”

Keith huffed out a laugh.  “Maybe so.”

“Can I help?” Lance asked, moving so he was kneeling in front of Keith.  “Can I touch?”

Keith nodded, adding another finger and granting permission for Lance’s hands to roam freely down his body.  Lance kissed him sweetly, letting his hands trail lightly across Keith’s chest before they danced lower to tickle his ribs and trace the solid line of his stomach.  The touch distracted from the too-eager stretch of Keith’s hole, trying to open himself up quickly so he could get to the stretch he _really_ wanted.  One of Lance’s hands circled Keith’s cock, sitting at attention against his thigh but thus far ignored in favor of other endeavors.  Lance’s long fingers wrapped around him, stroking loosely enough to be felt but not with enough pressure for any real friction. 

After a few minutes, Keith’s impatience won the battle with his preparation and he pushed Lance back against the mattress, pinning him on his back with one of Keith’s hands splayed out over Lance’s chest.  Lance tossed him a pretty smirk, his hands settling on Keith’s thighs and rubbing gentle circles at the sides of Keith’s knees as Keith readied Lance’s length with a condom.

Keith’s eyes fluttered shut as he lowered himself onto Lance’s cock, letting gravity do the bulk of the work for him.  The stretch toed the line between pain and pleasure, which Keith didn’t mind in the slightest.  He tried to focus on keeping his breathing even as he adjusted to the feeling of Lance’s cock filling him up, hot and heavy and so _fucking good_.  He let his hips grind into Lance’s, savoring the shift of the heat inside him and the drag against his inner walls as he sank back down over and over.

“You feel so good, honey,” Lance told him.  Keith cracked his eyes open to see Lance staring up at him with awe-filled blue eyes that felt like they could punch all the air out of Keith’s lungs without blinking.  “I fucking love when you ride me.”

“I fucking love riding you,” Keith murmured in response, finding a nice rhythm that had his ass bouncing on Lance’s cock at a pace that had Lance’s jaw dropping open and his hands tightening around Keith’s thighs.

“Christ, Keith, you’re gonna kill me,” Lance groaned.  “I don’t know how you fuckin’ think I’m gonna last long enough to switch.”

“No one said you had to last,” Keith said, smirking at the aroused and terrified look in Lance’s eyes as the implication sank in.  “Haven’t we gone more than one round before?”

“ _You_ have,” Lance said.

“I believe in you, baby,” Keith said.  “It’s okay.  Come inside me, and I’ll get you going again in no time.”

Lance let out a whimpering noise, and it only took a few more slaps of Keith’s ass against Lance’s thighs before Lance tensed, choking out Keith’s name as he came.  Keith rolled his hips, working Lance through his high, before he rose up and rolled off of Lance. 

“Shit, sweetheart,” Lance panted.  “I don’t—”

“Shh,” Keith hushed, removing the soiled condom from Lance’s length and licking up the remains of the mess Lance had made.  Lance whimpered, oversensitive but still bucking into the touch like it was too good to resist.  “I know you can do it, Lance.  I know you want it.”

“I do,” Lance panted.  “Fuck, I want it, Keith.”

“On your stomach, baby,” Keith commanded gently.  Lance obliged, rolling onto his knees and elbows, ass in the air.  Keith knelt behind him, slicking up his fingers and resuming the work he’d begun in the shower.  Lance whimpered as Keith curled his fingers directly against Lance’s sweet spot, hitting it with every motion until Lance was canting his hips back, bucking into the touch like he needed it as badly as air.  Keith’s third finger slipped in easily, Lance taking it eagerly and stretching so nicely around Keith’s fingers as he thrust them in and out.

“Keith I need it,” Lance panted, reaching one hand back to try and pull Keith closer.  “I need it, please.”

Keith bent forward, pressing his lips against the dip in Lance’s spine before he sat back on his haunches, pulling his fingers out so he could slip on a condom and slick up his length.  He’d mostly ignored his aching erection this far, more intent on making Lance feel good, but the anticipation as he lined the head of his cock up with Lance’s slick entrance was almost more than Keith knew how to handle.

Lance keened as Keith slipped slowly inside, his entrance fluttering around Keith’s cock where they came together.  “Holy fuck, Keith,” Lance panted, his voice pitched higher than usual in the wake of his first orgasm.  “Oh my god.”

“You good?” Keith asked, his voice strained as he resisted the urge to dive in hard and fast.

“So good,” Lance said, nodding fervently.  “Jesus, okay.  You’re gonna kill me.  _Fuck_.”

“Need a minute?”

Lance sucked in a deep breath, shifting just enough that Keith had to bite his lip against the sensation.  “’M good,” Lance promised.  “Don’t hold back.”

Keith huffed out a laugh.  “I’m kind of afraid of what happens if I don’t hold back.”

“Let’s find out, sweetheart,” Lance said, rocking back against Keith.  “C’mon, I want it.”

“Shit,” Keith muttered, giving a few shallow thrusts before he pulled out far enough that just the head of his cock was inside Lance and snapping his hips forward.

Lance let out a cry as he slipped forward, his cheek pressed against the mattress.  “ _Yes_ , holy shit,” Lance said.  “Fuck, don’t stop.”

Keith did, pounding into Lance over and over, each thrust dragging delicious friction over his cock and pulling beautiful noises out of Lance’s throat as he rocked back in an effort to meet each of Keith’s motions.  He slipped an arm around Lance’s chest, hauling him up to press their bodies together, back to chest, and continued snapping his hips up into Lance’s, his thighs smacking into Lance’s ass with every thrust.  Lance’s entrance tightened around Keith as cock brushed prostate.  Lance’s cries had shorted to punched out little moans, high pitched and each one music to Keith’s ears.  “Are you close, baby?” Keith asked, his chest heaving with the effort of holding Lance up as they fucked.  “Are you gonna come for me again?”

“I—I—don’t,” Lance panted, shaking his head.  “I can’t.”

“You can,” Keith said.  “Come on, baby.

“ _Keith_ ,” Lance moaned, dragging out the syllables far further than was necessary, hands scrabbling around the back of Keith’s neck to pull him closer.  Lance’s lips latched onto whatever part of Keith’s jaw he could reach as Keith's hand tugged at Lance's length, encouraging him to let himself go.  “ _Ohgodpapi, please!”_ Lance whined. “I-I’m—”

Keith didn’t immediately take the time to parse out the words amidst the breathless pants and whines Lance was letting out, not when Lance was tipping over the edge for the second time and digging his fingernails painfully into the back of Keith’s neck as he came.  Keith wasn’t long in following, finally letting his own release wash over him with a gasp of Lance’s name.  He lowered Lance gently to the mattress, gathering the other man up in his arms as they recovered.  It was a good minute or two before Keith registered what Lance had shouted in the heat of the moment.

“Did you just call me _papi_ and then come like a freight train?”

Lance was making his best effort to keep a straight face, even as his cheeks flushed dark with a blush that Keith _knew_ wasn’t from the breathtaking orgasm he’d just had.   

Keith grinned.  “I fucking _knew_ you had a daddy kink, you little shit.”

“Can we like… discuss this later?” Lance asked, still panting.  “When I’ve remembered how to breathe after two fucking orgasms in a row?”

Keith chuckled.  “Yeah, fine.”

“I think you killed me, Keith,” Lance said.  “Really, truly killed me.”

“Was it bad?” Keith asked, a slight worry creeping into his brain.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Lance groaned, burying his face in Keith’s chest.  “Best fucking orgasm of my life, babe.”

“Which one?”

“Both of them, holy shit,” Lance said.  “What about you?”

“Huh?”

“Was it good for you, too?” Lance asked, grinning cheesily at Keith.

Keith snorted.  “My knees are gonna kill me tomorrow, but… worth it.”

“Your knees and my ass,” Lance laughed.  “I’ll have to fuck you missionary tomorrow to even it out.”

Keith leaned in to give Lance a lingering kiss.  “Sounds good to me.”

“Hey Keith?”

“Hm?”

“I’m really glad you broke our rules.”

Keith buried his smile in Lance’s hair, but there was no stopping the helium-like lightness that filled his chest at the words.  “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and they lived happily ever after the end come scream at me on Tumblr @ mothmanwashere


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